The War of Gods: Blood Awakening
by tthorn
Summary: Magic is not the only tool Harry Potter has in his arsenal. A gift one day changes his fate leading him to accept things that he would never have had before. One he is no longer human. Two he is the child of a god. Three he has to deal with another prophecy. Demi-god Harry. Pairings unknown.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - I own neither Percy Jackson and the Olympians nor Harry Potter.**

**AN: For ages and appearances of characters I have chosen to go mostly with the film version of Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, as the ages match up easier and it is easier to depict and so descript characters. In terms of everything else it will be a bit of a mash up, depending on what I feel like.  
**

The War of Gods

Chapter 1

Mankind and other sentient creatures have always believed in the gods, they carve them out of Nature with each god representing a small piece of the larger picture. They are attributed appearances, characters and names to suit with what they represent; gods of the sea then to be powerful and ever-changing yet at the same time dangerous and capricious, as is the case with the sea itself.

Gods do not need food or drink as mortal man requires, rather they are nourished and strengthen by worship, be that in the form of prayers, offerings or curses. The more worshippers a god or goddess has the more powerful they become and so gods rise and fall with the nations and civilisations that worship them. A god without followers fades out of existence, until he is little more than a memory, a memory that is ready to return yet still a shadow of his former glory.

As mankind was often formed in the image of gods, the gods display characteristics and habits that can be found among mortal men. They hate, they lust, they fear and they fight. The gods all desire power and are willing to use trickery, deception or outright violence to gather the worshippers they need to achieve that power.

Yet as much as the gods tricked, despised and manipulated mankind they would come down sometimes and sleep with them, and sometimes fall in love with them. Thus copulating creates the demi-gods, men and women who would live their lives manipulated and in fear because of who they were, constantly in danger from both their fellow man and their godly relatives. This is the story of one particular demi-god and the fate that he was chosen to bear.

*********WOTG**********

Harry Potter sat crouched over a flower bed in the hell hole that was Privet Drive. It was mid-July and the sun was currently baking his back, he could already feel the sting of emerging sunburn on the back of his neck. It was the summer holidays, a time that Harry normally despised above all other because it meant returning to the Dursleys, yet this time was different.

Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was dead. He had died in the Ministry of Magic, lead there by the fear that Harry was in danger. It was Harry's own fault that his godfather, one of his last links to his parents and the man who was going to rescue him from the Dursleys forever, was dead. All Harry wanted to do was to be left alone to deal with that by himself, yet at Hogwarts he had never been able to do so. Over the month since the true had emerged Harry had been constantly harangued by people trying to say that they had believed in him along and that the Ministry were just a bunch of incompetent liars. Not only that but school was also full of things that just made Harry even more depressed or angry. Every time Harry had seen Dumbledore he had been reminded of the Prophecy and the thought of the fate that was now hanging over him was enough to sour his mood. To make matters worse, his friends were trying to get him over it but Ron's attempts to make him forget by playing Quidditch and chess were useless and Hermione's pity filled gazes only irritated him. Here, at the Dursleys, at least he could be left in peace.

A small rustling in the bushes destroyed that illusion. It seemed that Dumbledore still insisted that one of the Order guards continue to follow Harry around the place, when last summer had proved how incapable they were. Harry could tell from the smell of tobacco and alcohol that it was probably Mundungus Fletcher who was on duty at the moment. Sometimes Dumbledore took his second chances ideology way too far. Harry resisted the temptation to throw the trowel in his hands at the bush to wake the obviously sleeping Mundungus up.

It was a week before the Order came to collect him, currently the plan was to go to Grimmauld Place instead than the Burrow. Dumbledore had sent Harry a note saying that he would be coming in person to collect Harry, which struck Harry as a bit presumptuous for although he had kind of forgiven the Headmaster because he had to, he was no hurry to see him again and Dumbledore must have known that given their words at the end of the last year. Hermione had made it her personal mission to meddle in his life as much as possible 'for his own good' and had persuaded Mrs Weasley and Dumbledore that Harry 'needed to confront his sorrows' instead of allowing them to 'well up inside him'. Either way it was decided that Harry would be spending the last month of the summer at Grimmauld Place, that dreary house which reminded him so much of Sirius. As depressed as Harry was going to be at Grimmauld Place there the atmosphere at least would reflect his mood and so he wouldn't feel like he was ruining the party so to speak as would have been the case at the Burrow.

Reaching towards one of the rose bushes than Aunt Petunia was having him prune, he cut his finger on one of the thorns. Deep red blood ran down into his palm and pooled there. Harry inspected it fascinated, playing with it by tipping it from side to side so as to send the blood trickling all over his palm. Suddenly he was interrupted.

"Boy, your aunt wants you to lay the table!" Uncle Vernon's barked from the living room window where he and Dudley were occupied watching a boxing tournament on the television.

Lazy buggers, Harry thought angrily to himself, why couldn't they do it?

Pulling himself to his feet Harry hurried inside before his aunt found an excuse to give his food to his cousin instead. Harry missed the small wound on his finger slowly closing up so that by the time he had gone ten metres it had totally gone.

In such a hurry was he that Harry missed a man leaning against a fence on the opposite side of the road watching him closely. The man made no sign of going after Harry went inside rather he transferred his gaze to the window of Harry's room and continued to wait. The asleep Dung would prevent any news of a suspicious looking man standing outside number 4 Privet Drive.

*********WOTG**********

Harry returned to his room after he had finished laying the table for the Dursley's lunch, he had chosen instead to make himself a sandwich and eat up here rather than force himself to endure another meal in their presence. Harry's room was a mess, he knew that but he really had no desire to get up and make an effort to tidy up. Hedwig's cage was a mess, something she was in a bad mood about judging from the disgruntled hoot and the peck Harry received when he let her out of his cage, and his school trunk was lying still packed in a corner of the room where he had thrown it when he returned from school.

He had yet to start on any of his holiday work for which he was sure that Hermione would harangue him for when he left Privet Drive but then at least he could use it as an excuse to get away from the others whenever he felt like he wanted to be on his own.

Reaching behind his head for a piece of parchment on his desk so that he could scruple it up and fling it into the bin Harry found his hand grasping empty air. But Harry hadn't touched his desk since he had returned from school, and so it had been a total mess with broken quills and odd pieces of parchment from past years cluttering it. Sitting up Harry noticed that his desk had been cleared, all the papers placed in a neat stack, the broken quills thrown in the bin and a small box had been placed on the now cleared space where previously there had only been chaos. The box was made of some dark wood and had been beautifully carved and was decorated with animals with small coloured stones for eyes and small fragments of bone for teeth and horns. It was just smaller than one of the thick text book Harry used for school and had a whole array of what looked like runes of some sort which had been carefully drawn onto the top.

Harry hesitated for a moment wondering whether he ought to get the Order to check it for curses or enchantments before deciding to go with the Gryffindor approach and just open it anyway. If the person had meant to hurt then he would never have been able to get through the blood wars, or at least according to Dumbledore. Removing the hinged lid, Harry saw that the inside was lined with green felt with was soft to touch and there a stand upon which there was a knife in a leather sheath. The sheath was totally unlike anything Harry had seen before. It was made of black leather and had an elaborately snitched "L" in gold snitching sown onto it. The handle of the knife itself was made up of bone, from what animal Harry could not tell, but there was no lack of gold or precious stones adorning it. Slowly drawing the knife from its sheath Harry examined the blade. Just over 8" long with a slowly curving tip, the very steel seemed to simmer in the evening light. Beautiful Celtic patterns where forged into the metal, giving the blade a swirling effect as well as making it look slightly mystical.

Giving it a few swing Harry marvelled at how natural the blade fitted in his hands as if it had been hand crafted for him, not only that but all his swings felt balanced and perfect. At this point Harry noticed that the box was still not empty, inside there was a strap that looked like it was supposed to fit onto the arm or the leg to which he could attach the sheath for easier use. But that was not all, at the very bottom was a small bit of folded card and on it written in red ink was a note.

_To Harry,_

_This belongs to your father. As I am unable to return it to him myself I thought that by giving it to you, you might been be able to return it to him at some point._

_Should you have need of help call me. I still owe a debt to your family_

_R.A_

Harry stared at the note in disbelief. Was this some sort of trick of Voldemort's? But that didn't make sense either, Voldemort knew his father was dead, he had killed him himself. How could anyone not know that James Potter was dead, dead for the very reason that Harry himself was known throughout the world? And if they didn't know he was dead then why would they come here to Privet Drive instead of going to Godric's Hallow or wherever his father had lived before moving there.

He considered going straight to Dumbledore with the note but he knew that the Headmaster would force him to hand over the knife and Harry found that he was already slightly attached to it. It was very beautiful after all and if it really had belonged to his father than there really was no reason why Harry should not have it. Harry also suspected that unlike the Firebolt this would not be something that would be handed back in a hurry, Dumbledore would view it as a dangerous weapon which could be used to kill or serious maim anyone who it was used against. And that went against Dumbledore's policy.

Now that Harry had decided to keep it there was now the question of what to do with it, Harry wanted to know more about the knife. After all the person who delivered it was obviously magical as he managed to leave the box in Harry's room without any of his relatives noticing and if it had belonged to a wizarding family like the Potters then it was likely that the knife had some kind of magical enchantments, much like Sirius' penknife had. In which case Harry wanted to know what they were and what purpose Harry could use it for, for all he knew it might be of great help in fighting against Voldemort. What's more was that if Harry was able to figure out more about the knife, it might help to lead him to the person who had delivered it.

Harry considered talking to Mr Weasley, but he would almost be certain to force Harry to go to Dumbledore, for that same reason most of the other Order members were out. Lupin was away on a mission for Dumbledore, Moody was too unpredictable and paranoid so would immediately say it was an attempt to assassinate him whilst Tonks was too inexperienced to be able to tell him what he wanted to know. Bill was a possibility, he had a lot of experience with curses and enchantments, he even worked for Gringotts…..

Gringott's! Harry thought suddenly.

Of course he could go to Gringott's, their confidentiality was famous and as goblins they would be better than any at discerning any magic within the anything that was made of metal. Hell the blade was probably forged by the goblins. Harry remembered Bill talking about the skills of some of the Gringott's crafts-goblins last summer, if anyone could tell what he wanted to know they could. Furthermore it would give Harry an opportunity to get out of the house.

Grabbing a small rucksack Harry quickly threw some stuff into it. It would be good to get out of the house, that at least should stop him moping around about Sirius. As that thought hit him he paused, realising that since he had found the dagger Harry had not thought about Sirius once, this had been the first time since Sirius' death that he had really moved on. Harry smiled a half-smile, perhaps there was still yet some hope.

Going downstairs Harry walked out the door without bothering to tell his aunt where he was going before starting down the road in the direction of the bus stop.

**AN: This is just a plot that came into my head last weekend and I have now acted on. I have around five chapters down and will make more if it proves popular. **

**Please if you notice any plot holes or anything tell me so I can correct them.**

**I am by no means giving up on my other stories, a chapter of Harry Potter, the Don should be going up this weekend.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer - I own neither Percy Jackson and the Olympians nor Harry Potter.**

**AN: Some of these sections you might vaguely recognise as coming from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, although they have been heavily edited first.  
**

Chapter 2 - Gringott's

Catching a muggle bus to the Leaky Cauldron was easy although making his way through the pub and walking down the street, even wearing his invisibility cloak, was a little more difficult. He had to keep swerving out of the way of various shoppers in to order to avoid bumping into anyone and so getting noticed.

Harry eventually arriving at the gleaming white building that was Gringott's and pulled off the cloak, once he was sure that no one was looking. Checking that there was no one he recognised from the Order or Voldemort's Death Eaters in sight Harry walked through the doors. Here at least he was relatively safe; not even Voldemort would dare to attack him while he was on goblin ground - the thought of angering the people who controlled their vaults would be too much for him or any of his followers to risk.

An inquiries desk to the left of where the bankers desks were located drew Harry's attention and so he made his way over there as discreetly as possible. Sitting at the desk was an official looking goblin, who like most of his kind, refused to take any notice of Harry unlike he coughed subtly.

"What is your business in Gringott's today, Mr Potter?" he asked baring his pointed teeth viciously.

Taking a deep breath, Harry asked "I have recently come into possession of an artefact and I would like to know what enchantments there are on it and if possible, anything about its origins. I am willing to pay of course."

The goblin nodded slowly before closing his book and pressing a button. A moment later one of the attendants standing around the hall hurried over to the desk.

"Take Mr Potter to Chief Crafter Steelclaw," he said before ignoring Harry's thanks, reopening his book and carrying on as before.

The other goblin bowed his head and told Harry to follow, leading him down one of the side corridors leading out of the main hallway and down a long flight of stairs. As they got lower the temperature increased so that by the time they reached the bottom, Harry was sweating quite heavily. The reason for the change in temperature became apparent when they entered a door which opened into a massive cavern filled with at least seven blast furnaces.

Harry followed his goblin guide through the hustling goblin forgers until they came to a workstation where a slightly larger than normal goblin was working intently at forging what looked like a silver goblet. His guide went over and whispered in his ear, causing him to look at Harry disgruntledly, like any craftsman he clearly hated being drawn away from his work. However he placed his tools back on the table and made his way over.

"I am Chief Crafter Steelclaw, I can give you a couple of minutes of my time although I am in the middle of an important task and so I expect to be compensated well for this." He really did not look very pleased to be dragged away from his work.

Harry murmured his apologises and followed the goblin craftsman into one of the rooms that lead off the cavern. Upon entering Harry saw it was a smaller workshop but quieter without all the noise of the blast furnaces next door. Steelclaw made his way over to one of the stations and sat down, looking expectantly at Harry.

"Come on, hurry up boy, I don't have all day!"

Harry drew the knife and placed it down in front of the goblin, who in response just stared at it with his eyebrows raised.

"It can't be!" he asked still not touching the blade, "where did you get this?".

Harry explained the situation, leaving out his doubts about the weapon, "is it goblin-made?" he asked fearing the answer as Bill had mentioned something about goblin ideas of ownership.

"No. We could never craft anything of this skill. Dwarf make, I am certain of that!" at that assertion, Steelclaw's apprentice who had followed them in looked like he was about to drop the tools he was carrying.

"Dwarfs?" Harry asked, he could vaguely remember something about dwarves being mentioned in History of Magic but he couldn't remember anything else.

Steelclaw nodded, "dwarfs, they were the ones who taught us goblins all we know about forging and crafting. They became extinct several centuries ago, although there have been rumours. We never knew the Potters possessed a dwarven forged blade, almost everything else they crafted disappeared with them. The only relic we have left is the goblin king's armour and that is in drastic need of repair as it is, but we don't have the skill to do the job properly."

Not particularly enjoying the deviance from the subject matter, Harry tried to steer the conversation back to the question he wanted answering.

"So what can you tell me about the knife itself?"

The goblin looked like he wanted to glare at Harry for interrupting his flow but decided against it. Finally picking up the blade he examined it closely bringing it right up to his hooked nose so that it looked like he was smelling the steel.

"It is old, over a thousand years old I should imagine probably nearing two. That's dwarven steel and so without a doubt strengthened with whatever magic they placed upon it. As for the enchantments, I would say enchantments to make it kill easier, pierce easier and be stronger. Apart from that it is hard to tell, those runes are different, not dwarven, and so what they say I cannot tell. Normal enchantments from what we know of dwarven weapons include a measure to prevent theft and lost by enchanting the blade to return to its sheath when you lose it, as well as that it will totally impervious to all types of corrosion, to the point that even dragon's breath will not have any effect on it."

He gave it one last long glance before returning it to Harry, slightly surprised, returned it to the sheath on his arm. Folding his arms Steelclaw looked Harry in the eye.

"This blade is also what is known as a blood blade, it is bound in blood and magic so as to only allow it to be wielded by people who share the same blood or those to whom permission has been granted. But it can still be lost or stolen by a member of your own family, so keep good care of it. It is only because it cannot be wielded by another that I will not make you an offer for it, I know that the goblin king would have given the whole treasury of Gringotts for it had it been otherwise. I wish you good luck, Mr Potter, now if you would excuse me I must write a report on what I have just seen."

Clearly the existence of Harry's knife had been enough to shock him into forgetting the 'important' task he had been doing beforehand. No doubt this would be the gossip of the bank and so within a couple of days knowing Harry's luck, news of his excursion would reach Dumbledore. However recognising the dismissal, Harry made his way back through the bank and out through the door back into the glorious weather of a British summer, that is to say bucketing with rain. Moving into a side alley Harry threw his cloak back over himself and headed back to the pub. As he was moving he remember the Weasley twins' shop, and backtracking he went back past Gringott's until he found it.

"Whoa," said Harry aloud, stopping in his tracks.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, the displays in Fred and George's windows hit you like one of the twin's firework displays. Casual passers-by were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Harry's eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?  
You SHOULD Be Worrying About  
U-NO-POO-  
the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!

Snorting at the ridiculousness of the Weasley twins, Harry immediately entered the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Harry noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Harry pushed his way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable hangman-spell it or he'll swing!

Noticing a large display near the counter bearing a highly coloured picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship Harry wandered over to it and starting reading.

'Patented Daydream Charms'

'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to anyone under sixteen.

Harry whistled appreciatively, he knew enough about charms and potions to know that that was fairly impressive magic, particularly impressive when he remembered how many OWLs the Weasley twins had got between them.

At that moment Harry's invisibility cloak was pulled from his shoulders by a beaming Fred. He wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair.

"Harry my man. Not trying to sneak into our shop without saying hello are you?" He said shaking Harry's hand, before bending low and whispering in Harry's ear. "Does my mum know you're out or should I go and tell here?"

Harry glared at Fred, "even hint at it to her and I will curse you so badly that people will be able to tell you and George apart permanently!"

Fred feigned a sigh, "as if I would do anything of the sort, besides anything to help a fellow troublemaker and sufferer of my dear mother! Come on, I will give you a tour!"

Harry followed Fred toward the back of the shop, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks.

"Muggle magic tricks!" said Fred happily, pointing them out. "For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties... Oh, here's George..."

Fred's twin shook Harry's hand energetically.

"Giving him the tour? Come through the back, Harry, that's where we're making the real money... pocket anything, you, and you'll pay in more than Galleons!" he added warningly to a small boy who hastily whipped his hand out of the tub labelled: Edible Dark Marks-They'll Make Anyone Sick!

George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Harry saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

"We've just developed this more serious line," said Fred. "Funny how it happened..."

"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," said George. "Course, they didn't have you teaching them, Harry."

"That's right... Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we're still getting massive orders!"

"So we've expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves..."

"... I mean, they wouldn't help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes..."

"And then we thought we'd get into the whole area of Defence Against the Dark Arts, because it's such a money spinner," continued George enthusiastically. "This is cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape."

"And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look," said Fred, pointing at a number of weird-looking black horn-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight. "You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one."

"Handy," said Harry, impressed.

"Here," said George, catching a couple and throwing them to Harry.

A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain; Harry saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.

"There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley," she said.

Harry found it very odd to hear Fred and George called "Mr Weasley," but they took it in their stride.

"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," said George promptly. "Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge."

"I can't do that!" said Harry, who had already pulled out his money bag to pay for the Decoy Detonators.

"You don't pay here," said Fred firmly, waving away Harry's gold.

"But..."

"You gave us our start-up loan, we haven't forgotten," said George sternly. "Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask."

George swept off through the curtain to help with the customers, and Fred led Harry back into the main part of the shop.

Turning back to him, Harry said "remember to tell George that this is not to be mentioned to your mother or any of the other Order members no matter what! Right?"

Fred threw up a salute and grinned at Harry, who slipping back under his cloak made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

*********WOTG**********

It had been a week since Harry's little excursion into Diagon Alley and as he had yet to get a letter or a visit scolding him for being reckless and endangering himself, Harry presumed the Order had not learnt of it though it was only a matter of time. Dumbledore would be coming to collect Harry in a couple of hours to take him to Grimmauld Place and then to the Burrow after a week because Mrs Weasley insisted that Harry went there for at least some of the summer.

There was a growing pile of unanswered letters growing on his desk, at the start of the holidays Harry really didn't want to lie to his friends by saying that he was alright and so chose not to reply instead. Over the last week when he had returned to a relatively normal state of mind he had had a flick over them and found that he really didn't want to answer any of them; Hermione's were really over bearing and Ron's, well apart from having the grammatical merit of a chimpanzees, were filled with such utter meaningless tripe, such as the position of the Chudley Cannons in the league, that Harry had thrown most of them in the bin.

Harry had spent most of the last week sitting on his bed polishing the knife again and again, it didn't need it but Harry liked the way he could see his own reflection in it. Harry had been becoming more and more obsessed with the knife, as of yet the knife had barely left Harry, either in his hands or the sheath which was strapped on his arm. He had surprised Aunt Petunia several times by volunteering to help her cut vegetables for meals just so he could see the way the knife slide through them as if they were made of butter. He even kept it under his pillow with his wand, and often woke up in the middle of the night grasping it as he awoke from his nightmares.

The nightmares. He had had them as long as he could remember even before Hogwarts, normally only once a year at most but recently they had got worse and worse until there was not a night that Harry didn't wake up sweating and terrified. He dreamt of a battlefield where the rain fell as blood as the battle raged; giants, huge snakes and enormous wolves fought massed ranks of iron clad warriors. That was all Harry could ever remember, that, and the blood and the screams as men were ripped apart. All he needed was to close his eyes to be instantly transported into that scene of chaos and massacre, several times it had taken all Harry's self-control to prevent himself from being physically sick after some of the more gory scenes.

The doorbell rang, causing Harry to leap to his feet. Downstairs in the living room his Uncle Vernon shouted, "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?"

He had completely forgotten to warn the Dursleys that the Order would be coming to collect him. Close to laughter as he imagined his uncle's response to wizards calling at this hour, he ran over to his trunk and picking it up along with Hedwig's cage, wrenched open his bedroom door in time to hear a deep voice say, "Good evening. You must be Mr Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

Hearing the voice Harry groaned. Dumbledore. Although he was not particularly angry with the aging wizard any more he had absolutely no desire to see him so soon after he had had the Prophecy landed on his head. He had hoped that perhaps the Headmaster would find some urgent business that needed his attending so that he would have someone like Tonks or Lupin instead. Still, he better go and try and prevent Vernon attempting to kill his Headmaster, although as he considered it for a moment he realised that should that happen Voldemort might die of laughter and then most of his problems would be solved.

Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, a feat which was quite hard considering that he was carrying a trunk and a bird cage. There in the doorway stood a tall, thin man with waist-length silver hair and beard. Half-moon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose, and he was wearing a long black traveling cloak and pointed hat.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was coming," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."

He stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind him. Vernon Dursley said nothing at all. Harry did not doubt that speech would return to him, and soon...the vein pulsing in his uncle's temple was reaching danger point...but something about Dumbledore seemed to have robbed him temporarily of breath.

"Ah, good evening Harry," said Dumbledore, looking up at him with a most satisfied expression. "Excellent, excellent."

These words seemed to rouse Uncle Vernon. It was clear that as far as he was concerned, any man who could look at Harry and say "excellent" was a man with whom he could never see eye to eye.

"I don't mean to be rude ..." he began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every syllable.

"...yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often," Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely. "Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Petunia."

The kitchen door had opened, and there stood Harry's aunt, wearing rubber gloves and a housecoat over her nightdress, clearly halfway through her usual pre-bedtime wipe-down of all the kitchen surfaces. Her rather horsey face registered nothing but shock.

"Albus Dumbledore," said Dumbledore, when Uncle Vernon failed to effect an introduction. "We have corresponded, of course." Harry thought this an odd way of reminding Aunt Petunia that he had once sent her an exploding letter, but Aunt Petunia did not challenge the term. Dumbledore waited a moment or two, apparently to see whether any of the Dursleys were going to say anything, but as the silence stretched on he smiled. "Shall we assume that you have invited me into your sitting room?"

Harry, still clutching the cage and his trunk, jumped the last few stairs and followed Dumbledore, who had settled himself in the armchair nearest the fire and was taking in the surroundings with an expression of benign interest. He looked quite extraordinarily out of place.

"Aren't... aren't we leaving, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first," said Dumbledore. "And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer."

"You will, will you?"

Vernon Dursley had entered the room, Petunia at his shoulder, and Dudley skulking behind them both.

"Yes," said Dumbledore simply, "I shall."

He drew his wand so rapidly that Harry barely saw it; with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed forward and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so that they collapsed upon it in a heap. Another flick of the wand and the sofa zoomed back to its original position.

"We may as well be comfortable," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

As he replaced his wand in his pocket, Harry saw that his hand was blackened and shrivelled; it looked as though his flesh had been burned away. Irritated as Harry was with the Headmaster he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.

Harry took the remaining armchair, choosing not to look at the Dursleys, who seemed stunned into silence.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, turning toward him, "a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. We were going to sort it out when we reached Grimmauld Place but unforeseen events have brought that forward. First of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned."

Over on the sofa, Uncle Vernon's head turned, but Harry did not look at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, "Oh. Right."

"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Dumbledore went on. "You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringott's, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy..."

"His godfather's dead?" said Uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at him. "He's dead? His godfather?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had not confided in the Dursleys. "Our problem," he continued to Harry, as if there had been no interruption, "is that although Sirius left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place, we cannot quite be sure of true ownership. Should it prove that you are not the rightful owner then we will have to move you to the Burrow instead. I have had the Order vacate the building temporarily."

"Why?"

"Well," said Dumbledore, ignoring the mutterings of Uncle Vernon, "Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of "Black." Sirius was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pure-blood."

Harry nodded knowing that Dumbledore was thinking of the demented portrait of Sirius" mother in the entrance hall.

Dumbledore. "And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

"No," Harry said firmly.

"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either," said Dumbledore calmly. "The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position. Fortunately, there is a simple test."

"A test?" Harry repeated slight suspiciously fearing whatever the Black Family would have thought was appropriate.

"You see," Dumbledore said, "if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited..."

There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the Dursleys" shag carpet and covered in grimy rags. Aunt Petunia let out a hair-raising shriek; nothing this filthy had entered her house in living memory.

"Kreacher," finished Dumbledore.

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" croaked the house-elf, quite as loudly as Uncle Vernon, stamping his long, gnarled feet and pulling his ears. "Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't, won't ..."

"As you can see, Harry," said Dumbledore loudly, over Kreacher's continued croaks of "wont, won't, won't," "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership."

"I don't care," said Harry again, looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. "I don't want him."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't..."

"You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?"

"Won't, won't, won't, won't..."

Harry stared at Dumbledore. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go and live with Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Sirius, was repugnant.

"Give him an order," said Dumbledore. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress."

"Won't, won't, won't, WON"T!"

Kreacher's voice had risen to a scream. Harry could think of nothing to say, except, "Kreacher, shut up!"

It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet (Aunt Petunia whimpered) and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum.

"Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "It means that Sirius knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher."

"Good," said Dumbledore. "There is also the matter of the hippogriff, Buckbeak. Hagrid has been looking after him since Sirius died, but Buckbeak is yours now, so if you would prefer to make different arrangements..."

"No," said Harry at once, "he can stay with Hagrid. I think Buckbeak would prefer that."

"Hagrid will be delighted," said Dumbledore, smiling. "He was thrilled to see Buckbeak again. Incidentally, we have decided, in the interests of Buckbeak's safety, to rechristen him "Witherwings" for the time being, though I doubt that the Ministry would ever guess he is the hippogriff they once sentenced to death."

"Well, Harry... time for us to be off," said Dumbledore at last, standing up and straightening his long black cloak. "Until we meet again," he said to the Dursleys, who looked as though that moment could wait forever as far as they were concerned, and after doffing his hat, he swept from the room.

"Bye," said Harry hastily to the Dursleys, and followed Dumbledore, who paused beside Harry's trunk, upon which Hedwig's cage was perched.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," he said, pulling out his wand again. "I shall send them to Grimmauld Place to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak... just in case."

Harry extracted his cloak from his trunk with some difficulty, before patting his arm to ensure that the knife was in sheath. When he had stuffed his cloak into an inside pocket of his jacket, Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk, cage, and Hedwig vanished. Dumbledore then waved his wand again, and the front door opened onto cool, misty darkness.

**AN: This is a slightly clumsy chapter as I tried to move things on as quickly as possible and so might need to be redone but I hope it is ok for now. The next chapter is written and so will hopefully be up by the end of the weekend. **

**Please review I am curious to see guess for Harry's possible father/mother.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Harry felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip; the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull and then…

He gulped great lungful's of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realized that Privet Drive had vanished. He and Dumbledore were now standing on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of the small square in which Grimmauld Place was located. His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just apparated for the first time in his life.

"Are you all right?" asked Dumbledore, looking down at him solicitously. "The sensation does take some getting used to."

"I'm fine," said Harry, rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Privet Drive rather reluctantly. "But I think I might prefer brooms..."

"Here," Dumbledore said, offering Harry a piece of parchment, which contained the address for Harry's new house. "You know what to do, read quickly and memorise."

He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand-tip. The familiar sight of the battered door of number twelve Grimmauld Place emerging out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by its dirty walls and grimy windows.

"After you," Dumbledore said pleasantly, motioning towards the steps leading into the house.

As Harry entered the old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. It seemed that even Mrs Weasley's war against the house could only be countered as an overwhelming defeat.

"This place still needs a bit of a tidy," Harry remarked as he looked around the corridor.

"I fear so," Dumbledore said, closing the door behind him and wiping his feet on the doormat, "I know Molly is eager to resume tidying although her children do not seem quite as keen."

Harry sympathised with them although he smiled as he imagined what Ron's reaction would have been to the news that he would have to be spending another holidays cleaning this house.

"Headmaster, when are the Weasleys coming?"

"Not until tomorrow morning, my boy," Dumbledore said, unwrapping a sweet which he had taken from his pocket, "Order members will be coming and going throughout the night so if you need anything until then find one of them. I imagine the Weasleys will come in time for breakfast. Molly always seems to want to personal ensure that you are given a proper meal after any time at the Dursleys."

A hoot alerted Harry to his trunk and Hedwig's cage just inside the door. Harry went over and checked everything was there. After he did this he turned back to Dumbledore who checked his odd little pocket watch. Snapping the lid shut, the Headmaster started to head towards the door.

"Right, Harry my boy I am afraid that I must be off, I have to persuade an old colleague of my mine to come back to Hogwarts to teach."

With that he opened the door and disappeared, the sound of a crack from outside signalling his disapparition. Harry went to go and pick up his trunk when he remember something.

"Kreacher?"

Said elf appeared with a large crack.

"Master called me?" croaked Kreacher, sinking into a bow even as he gave Harry a look that plainly wished him a painful death.

"Could you take my trunks up to my room, please," Harry said, trying his hardest to prevent himself from strangling the little sod.

"Kreacher will do whatever Master wants," said Kreacher, sinking so low that his lips almost touched his toes, "because Kreacher has no choice, but Kreacher is ashamed to have such a master, yes…."

Harry's patience was wearing thin, "yes that is enough. Go!"

The house elf bowed low again, and popped over to where Harry's bags were. However just as he was about to disappear with them, an cunning idea came into Harry's head. A idea so cunning it reminded Harry why he should have been a Slytherin. Manipulation.

"Kreacher wait a moment," He asked.

"What does master want with Kreacher?" Kreacher asked, not looking happy at being called back.

Harry made a show of examining the portraits. He would play on Kreacher's pride and loyalty to this house to get him to do what he wanted, for although he might hate the sod, Harry was forced to admit that house elves were bloody useful. It would be relatively easy for all Kreacher's usefulness he was not very intelligent and as had been shown by Narcissa and Bellatrix was also relatively susceptible to manipulation.

"Kreacher. The House of Black is a very proud and important house in the wizarding world, is it not?" he asked rhetorically.

To this Kreacher had no choice but to nod suspicious of whatever Harry had in his mind, "so do you think that the Blacks would be pleased with the state the house is in at the moment? Would your precious mistress for example, would she be happy with what her home has become? When my pureblood friends come round do you think they will admire the power and the greatness of the House of Black or remark how dirty it is?"

Kreacher, unable to hold himself, interrupted "Master doesn't have any pureblood friends. All master's friends are mudbloods or filthy blood-traitors!"

Harry frowned for a moment, "so when I invite Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot here they are going to be impressed?" Kreacher looked torn, before shaking his head slightly. Realising that he needed to do more Harry added the names of any of the purebloods in his year that he could think of, "what about Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zambini or Terry Boot, I was even thinking of making up with Draco Malfoy and inviting him here. Would a Malfoy be impressed with the house in the state it is?"

Now Kreacher was furiously shaking his head but Harry continued anyways, "now I recognise that you will never be happy that I am your master, but I am and so you have a choice. You can be a good servant and I promise that I will do my best to return the House of Black to its past glory and will not throw out any more Black heirlooms, that is the first option. The second involves I will kill you now, completely destroy the Black name and then burning down this house with all the heirlooms in it. Which one do you choose?"

Kreacher thought for a moment, before grimacing "I will serve you, master." The last bit seemed to stick in his throat somewhat but Harry chose to ignore it.

"Good!" Harry said, "then take my stuff up to my room and then start to clean this house so that it can see proper use."

Kreacher bowed low before popping off with Harry's luggage, leaving Harry standing there in the hallway not quite sure what he should do now. He was feeling quite pleased with his powers of persuasion and manipulation, even Sirius had never been able to get Kreacher to willingly do what he wanted him to do.

Not feeling quite ready to go to bed, and as well as reckoning that it would be best for his room to be properly tidied before he went to bed, Harry decided to go and have a look around the Black Library. It was the one room which he and the rest of the Order had never been able to get into before, Hermione in particular had despaired over this. Harry suspected that Kreacher had sealed the room to prevent the Order from throwing out all the Dark Arts books, which they would have done forgetting that they were throwing out centuries worth of knowledge that could be used to defeat Voldemort just to avoid them 'corrupting' anyone.

If Harry was honest he had always been sceptical about the whole Dark Arts corruption thing. Ok that was perhaps a little bit of a lie – he had believed it completely until his second year when he found out that he possessed a 'dark' talent, parseltongue, a dark talent which to date hadn't done anything to corrupt him in anyway. Fourth year had only supported his theory, after all the Drumstrang students didn't seem too bad and Krum was even quite nice and they studied the Dark Arts at school. That didn't mean that he was about to start to study them yet, maybe he might do a bit after he left Hogwarts but apart from that he was planning to leave them alone.

Opening the huge black wood door that was the entrance Harry entered the library. Unlike most of the house it was relatively dust free and was certainly impressive. Completely circular over two stories with a domed roof, bookcases reached all the way from the ceiling to the floor with a balcony half way up which could be reached by a flight of stairs.

A dark oak desk lay in the centre of the room, topped with green dragon skin leather. On a stand on the desk was a huge book. Opening it, Harry found a list of titles that obviously corresponded to each of the books in the room. Flicking through Harry found a blank page near the end with a heading of 'Search'.

Realising that this could be another opportunity to discover more about his knife and work out what the person who delivered it wanted, Harry dipped a quill into a pot of ink that had an odd red colour that he had no wish to find out what it was. He wrote carefully 'dwarfs' on the page. Immediately the names of several books started to form on the page. Groaning as he realised that he would now have to go and search the shelves for the books, Harry started near the door. After half an hours searching he had only found one of the five books and had yet to go more than ten metres along the shelf. Stopping suddenly Harry grinned in realisation.

"Kreacher!"

The loud crack sounded as the elf popped into the room.

"Master called!" he croaked, obviously trying to be respectful and only partially succeeding.

Harry nodded, "Kreacher, I need to find the books that are listed on the Master Book. Can you get them for me please?"

Kreacher bowed and popped over to the Master Book and studied the list, before looking at Harry suspiciously, "what does Master what with dwarfs? They old magic, master, dangerous magic."

Harry looked the elf for a moment before drawing the knife from its sheath and showing it to the elf. Upon seeing it Kreacher's eyes widened drastically as if he recognised it although Harry didn't realise this. Remembering the possible danger of confiscation Harry said:

"Kreacher, I forbid you from telling anyone about this knife, especially Dumbledore! Is that understood?" the elf nodded furiously, unable to keep his eyes of the gleaming blade.

"Kreacher will find the books master, but could master do Kreacher a favour? Could master help Kreacher destroy master Regulus' locket?" Kreacher asked, his eyes watering.

Confused and not quite sure how to proceed with the crying elf, particularly one he still despised, Harry asked "locket, what locket?"

The elf collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward.

"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggleborns ... and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve ... And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said ... he said ..."

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

"... he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."

"Voldemort needed an elf?" Harry repeated, looking puzzled. Why would Voldemort want an elf?

"Oh yes," moaned Kreacher. "And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honour, said Master Regulus, an honour for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do ... and then to c-come home."

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake ... There was a boat ...There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it ..."

The elf quaked from head to foot.

"Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible thing ... Kreacher's insides burned ... Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed ... He made Kreacher drink all the potion ... He dropped a locket into the empty basin ... He filled it with more potion."

"And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island ..."

Harry could see it happening. He watched Voldemort's white, snakelike face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed the burning poison... But here, Harry's imagination could go no further, for he could not see how Kreacher had escaped

"Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake ... and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface ..."

"How did you get away?" Harry asked, and he was not surprised to hear himself whispering.

Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he said.

There was a silence as Harry digested this. How? Of course house elf magic, they could come and go through Hogwarts where wizards couldn't. How could Voldemort have made such a mistake?

"The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," intoned Kreacher. "Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home ..."

"So what happened when you got back?" Harry asked. "What did Regulus say when you told him what happened?"

"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaked Kreacher. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then ... it was a little while later ... Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell ... and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord ..."

And so they had set off. Harry could visualize them quite clearly, the frightened old elf and the thin, dark man whose photo he had seen last summer when clearing out the sitting room, the man who had so resembled Sirius ... Kreacher knew how to open the concealed entrance to the underground cavern, knew how to raise the tiny boat: this time it was his beloved Regulus who sailed with him to the island with its basin of poison ...

"M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. "And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets ..."

Kreacher's sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him.

"And he order" Kreacher to leave ¨without him. And he told Kreacher to go home and never to tell my Mistress what he had done but to destroy the first locket. And he drank all the potion and Kreacher swapped the lockets and watched ... as Master Regulus ... was dragged beneath the water ... and ..."

The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glistening around his snot, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears. Harry had never seen anything so pitiful.

"So you brought the locket home," he said relentlessly, for he was determined to know the full story. "And you tried to destroy it?"

"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work ... So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open ... Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave ..."

Kreacher began to sob so hard that there were no more coherent words. Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Kreacher," said Harry after a while, "when you feel up to it, er ... please sit up."

It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccupped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

"Kreacher, why are you telling me this?" Harry asked, both curious and yet at the same time not sure he wanted to know. Why would the elf who supported what Voldemort was doing betray something that sounded so important to Voldemort to the Dark Lord's worst enemy.

Kreacher hiccupped again, "M-m-master's blade, dwarven blade. Old magic, p-p-powerful enough to destroy Master Regulus' locket. Please, Master?"

Harry nodded deep in thought, whatever the locket was it was something that Voldemort held dear, very dear and so destroying it would hurt him. Deciding that he ought to go ahead and do so, Harry crouched down low to Kreacher's sitting form.

"Kreacher I will finish the work Master Regulus started, I ensure that he didn't die in vain. Bring me the locket." Harry ordered kindly.

Kreacher nodded and popped out returning a couple of seconds later with the locket that Harry remembered being thrown out last summer during the great clear-out. From the looks of it Kreacher rescued it like he had so many of the old Black heirlooms.

The locket itself was heavy gold with an ornate 'S' on the lid made out of what looked like semi-precious stones. Try as hard as he might Harry was still unable to open. Before he struck him, the 'S' was not just a 's' it was a snake – Slytherin.

"Kreacher, when I open this I need you to hold it open so that I can stab it," Harry told the determined looking elf, before raising the knife above his head, "ready? One, two THREE!"

"_OPEN_"

The golden doors of the locket swung wide open with a little click. Behind both of the glass windows within blinked a living eye, eyes that reminded Harry of the ones he had seen on Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. The knife flashed, as Harry plunged it through the locket before throwing himself out of the way, there as a clang of metal and a long, drawn-out scream.

Pulling himself to his feet Harry noticed Kreacher had disappeared, before he heard a crack behind him as the elf appeared next to the desk, with a small stack of books hovering behind him.

Popping back over to where Harry was standing Kreacher bowed so low that his nose was squashed against the floor, "thank you, master, thank you!"

Harry smiled at the elf's obvious gratitude, "no matter Kreacher, now if that's finished why don't you go to bed, it might make you feel a little better."

Again bowing low, Kreacher popped out of the room and Harry settled down to read the books.

******WOTG******

Harry lay in bed that night considering what he had found in those books. He would have much preferred to be in his old room but Kreacher had demanded that as the new Lord Black, Kreacher had decided that Harry inherited the rank along with the house, Harry should sleep in the master bedroom.

Harry had to admit the old elf had done a marvellous good of tiding up the house, it was amazing how much the house had brightened up once the oil lamps had been cleaned so the light they gave out was clear instead of an odd orangey colour. Not only were the lamps cleaned but the woodwork was all dusted, various different species of rodents and other animals had been routed out and destroyed and all the moth eaten curtains and linens had been removed for repair. Kreacher had also made a point of going around all the portraits making sure that they knew that Harry was Lord Black and asking them to show the respect the title deserved. He had even managed to achieve some kind of compromise with the portrait of Walburga Black, the details of which Harry wasn't quite sure of although he was definitely sure he did not want to know what they were.

Despite Harry's hopes the books had revealed little that Harry didn't already know; that the dwarves were master craftsmen of the highest order, they were the ones responsible for the civilisation and instruction of the goblins and that they had been wiped out over a thousand years ago. Interestingly Harry found that an alliance of Antony Potter and Hardactus Longbottom were considered responsible for the annihilation. Perhaps one of his ancestors had seized the knife as spoils of war but then there was still the problem of the blood ownership which wouldn't fit with this explanation.

Slightly put off by the fact that one of Harry's ancestors was responsible for the extinction of a whole magical species, he had gone through the books looking for an explanation. There must have been a reason why they choose to butcher them? The accounts says that even compared to the various goblin rebellions the war between wizards and dwarfs had been brutal, bloody and costly to both sides. Only in one passage could Harry find any reason for the conflict; it was an account of one of the wizards who remained neutral Marius L. Black. He recorded that the Potters and the Longbottoms appealed to the Council of Nobles and the Council of Churchmen that the dwarfs should be exterminated because they were 'holding true to those heathen idols that they worship as gods".

That left Harry puzzled. As a 'perfect' family the Dursleys had often gone to church and had sometimes dragged him along as well, saying that with some luck God would see what a miserable excuse for a person he was and strike him down with a lightning bolt. Fortunately that had never happened. But to be brought up in a relatively strict Christian family to move into the wizarding world where the only mention of religion was to mention the role of the Church in the witch burnings was quite a shock. Did wizards even believe in god, or indeed gods, or did their use of magic allow them to believe that they didn't need one.

Either way Harry was quite curious to find out, not only because it would give him more of a clue over the dagger and the person who had delivered it to Harry but would also serve to reassure him that his ancestor was not just a murderer but a man who had a reason to commit the act he did.

******WOTG******

The next morning Harry woke to find Kreacher standing next to his bed. Upon noticing that his master was awake, Kreacher bowed.

"Sorry for waking you master, but the bloodtraitor Weasley woman and her ungrateful brats are downstairs in the kitchen and she is demanding to see you," Kreacher said respectfully.

Harry, still too asleep to correct the house elf on his description of the Weasleys, slowly dragged himself from his bed to find a small pile of clothes folded at the foot of his bed. Going over to them Harry touched them, surprised to find them silky and comfortable to touch.

"They are some of Master Regulus' best," Kreacher said, "I know he would not mind you wearing them, a proper wizard, such as yourself should wear only the best."

They were robes. What's more was that they were really nice, although slightly too large. Spinning around in a mirror that Kreacher levitated for him, Harry felt that he felt quite dashing and smart dressed like this, something he had never ever felt when he was wearing his normal muggle attire.

As Harry left his room he reflected upon the complete turnaround in character that Kreacher had had since Harry had destroyed the locket. Despite his part in Sirius' death, Harry could not help but feel sorry for the poor elf – to have constantly failed at a task that had been set by your dying master. It would be enough to drive anyone mad. Yet with its destruction Kreacher had shown why he was so useful and the fact that Harry had played a large part in the elf's change made Harry very satisfied.

Heading down the stairs Harry found the Weasleys and Hermione all sitting in the kitchen where Mrs Weasley was inspecting the immaculate room in disbelief. As soon as they noticed him they all stood to greet him, Hermione gave him one of her killer hugs during which he swore she crushed at least three of his ribs, while Ron thumped him over the back.

Pulling him over to the table, Harry had to field constant questions about how he was and whether or not he was ok after the Ministry. As Harry sat down several plates of food appeared in front of him, causing Harry to look in astonishment before he remember Kreacher. The Weasleys however were none the wiser about what had just happened, Ron was practically drooling over the amount of food that was in front of Harry.

To be fair to Ron it was understandable, Kreacher had put on a spread that even shamed Hogwarts; cereal, a fruit salad and a full cooked breakfast ( bacon, scrambled eggs, sausages, black pudding, toast, beans, hashbrown and a potato scone) as well as a pot of coffee. At that moment Kreacher popped in with a glass of orange juice which he set before Harry.

"Eat up master, you need to look the part if you are going to play it. We can't have a skinny Lord Black, no no! Mistress Black would not forgive Kreacher if he allowed it!" he said before disappearing again, most likely to find even more food for Harry to eat.

Looking up, Harry saw that he was sitting opposite Hermione and panicked, "I've just been nice to him, I've just been nice to him." Before turning to Ron, "I think that answers your question about how I managed to get the house so clean!"

At this Hermione exploded, "through slavery, I should have known. What about Dobby, have you enslaved him as well! I thought you were better than this, Harry James Potter."

Ron, who was sitting next to her, put a hand on her shoulder probably to stop her throwing herself across the table to attack him. Harry though slowly edged his chair back just to be sure.

"Calm down Hermione, all I did was to be kind to him and promise not to throw out any of the Black stuff, and destroy something he wanted destroyed." Harry spoke quickly, so that he could get as many words in before she tried to kill him. "He is happy here now that I am being nice to him, so please leave it alone!"

All Hermione could do was nod blindly although Harry could tell if he even put one foot out of line then she would come down on him like a hundred tonnes of bricks.

Ron ended up stealing most of Harry's breakfast from him whenever Kreacher was not looking, not that Harry minded - it was good being back with everyone after a summer moping in Privet Drive.

******WOTG******

Harry spent the rest of that week either working on his holiday work in the Black library or playing quidditch with the Weasleys in the orchard back at the Burrow. As well as doing work he did a bit of research for spells to teach the DA next year should he decide to reform it, he was planning to speak with Hermione and Ron about it later although at the moment they both sounded enthusiastic.

Tonks had been a laugh ever since she found out that Harry had been designated the new Lord Black, she and her family had been delighted when Harry had offered to bring them back into the family as it was something that Tonk's mother in particular had missed. Upon her return to the house where she had grown up, Andromeda Tonks had had a long talk with the portrait of Sirius' mother. What was said no one found out but afterwards Walburga Black had been a lot more polite to everyone in the house. Kreacher even managed to now bow to the Tonks when he saw them, he still refused to bow to Hermione and would only spasm his head in the direction of any of the Weasleys. His use of the terms mudblood and bloodtraitors had slowly lessened although it was still there and would every now and again crop up.

Lupin had been away doing a mission for Dumbledore with the werewolves since before Harry had returned to Grimmauld Place. Harry hoped he would be back soon as he wanted to speak to him about Sirius and his parents. Sirius' death had brought home to him that he was slowly losing people who knew his parents and so wanted to talk to those that remained before they too were lost.

Therefore Harry was overjoyed when he walked into the kitchen four days after his arrival to find Lupin sitting at the table, writing on some parchment. Noticing Harry standing there, Lupin got up and came over to him.

"I hear you managed to get Kreacher to tidy this place up for a change, I must say I am both surprised and impressed" he said, shaking Harry's hand, "might I ask how you managed to do it?"

Harry just smirked and refused to tell him. After a while Lupin's face became serious.

"Harry, how are you? What with Sirius and then coming here," Lupin wrung his hands, "I tried to persuade Dumbledore out of it saying you should go to the Burrow but he wouldn't listen…"

Harry held up his hand, "it's alright Moony, I'm ok. The start of the holidays was rough but it's all straightened up now. What about you?"

Lupin smiled, "fine, fine I suppose." He looked towards the table, "come sit down and lets have a drink." He said pulling out a bottle of firewhisky from his pocket. "Under no circumstances tell Molly about this!" he added in response to Harry's raised eyebrow.

Harry had no idea how long they sat there, Lupin telling Harry tales of the Marauders' various misdemeanours at school, of which Harry took special glee in the ones where Snape was the one being pranked. All he knew was that by the time they were near finishing they had finished a large amount of firewhisky and both of them were slightly drunk. What's more was that it was getting late.

Noticing the time Lupin said, "time we ought to head to bed," he yawned, "I sure am ready for it!"

Harry nodded, his head felt like it was swinging and the odd light in the room wasn't helping him. Remembering his problem, Harry decided to ask Professor Lupin about it.

"Moony?" he asked, his words slurring slightly.

"Yes Harry," Lupin said raising another shot of firewhisky to his mouth. Something about his condition meant that getting drunk was not too easy for him and so as a result he was still relatively sober.

"Do witches and wizards believe in God?" Harry said, "I mean do we have our own gods, are we Christian or what?"

Lupin slowly lowered his glass and considered for a moment before answering.

"Harry you must remember the wizarding world is old, and more importantly traditional. Religion and magic, they tend not to mix very well, Christianity in particular. Different groups in the wizarding world worship different gods or none at all. Let's start with the old families, to them it depends on their family tradition. For example the Zambini family are a very old Italian family, old enough that they still worship the old Roman gods. Others believe in the Greek, Norse, Celtic or Germanic pantheons depending on their origin. A lot of the newer families and muggleborns, so that is the majority of witches and wizards, are loosely Christian, Muslim or Jewish. But as I said magic and religion do not mix very well, as religion is based on miracles and miracles don't really work as miracles if you are able to do it yourself with a single flick of your wand."

"Okay," Harry said taking another sip of his drink, shuddering as the firewhisky burnt his throat as he swallowed it. Noticing the state Harry was in Lupin decided now was the right time to remove Harry's glass from him.

"I must ask though why do you want to know? Most wizards really couldn't care less, with magic they have no need for religion," Lupin asked curious.

Weighing up for a moment whether to tell him or not, Harry decided against it. Lupin might tell Dumbledore and the Headmaster would immediately confiscate the knife and would know about Harry's little excursion.

"Just something I've been thinking about for some time," Harry lied shrugging his shoulders.

Harry tried to get to his feet but found them giving way under him. Fortunately Lupin was quick enough to grab him before he hit the ground. Using his great strength Harry's ex-teacher picked him up and carried him up to his room, laying him on his bed.

"Goodnight, Harry!" he whispered, before closing the door on the now sleeping boy.

**AN: My next update might not be for some time, mid next week as i am away. Review and tell me your thoughts. Also what should i do with Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and the rest of the Weasleys? And any particular pairing requests? i have ideas but if you want input just leave a message in a review.**

**T. T. Horn**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer - I own neither Percy Jackson and the Olympians nor Harry Potter.  
**

Chapter 4

Harry moaned as he cast another round of cutting curses, shredding the tennis balls that Kreacher was levitating. He had been exploring the basement one day when he had found a duelling ring. It was at that point that Harry made his first serious mistake – he asked Kreacher to help him practise.

There was no chance of the Ministry catching him as Kreacher had explained that because the house was unplottable the Ministry monitoring devices couldn't pick anything up. This apparently was the only reason that purebloods did not object to the Underage Use of Magic decrees, because they knew they could get round them.

Upon being asked to help, Kreacher immediately appointed himself Harry's coach and had turned into an actual tyrant. He was worse than Moody. For the last three nights that week there was not a single one where Harry had gone to bed not physically and magically exhausted. It was working though, that Harry had been forced to admit when he had once questioned Kreacher's methods; his spell casting was all a lot quicker and he was now much better at dodging spells that were being thrown at him.

"I think that is enough for today, Kreacher!" Harry said, lowing his wand.

There was an Order meeting that night and Harry had no wish to be asked why he was so tired. He imagined that Dumbledore would not be too happy with Harry's causal disregard of the law. Harry had tried to insist that as they were meeting in his house and it was his job to dispose of Voldemort that he should be allowed to attend the meetings, even if he didn't join the Order, however Dumbledore had quickly shot that down. He was still insisting on keeping Harry in the dark, although they had managed to come up with a compromise where Harry was informed in advance of any meetings.

Kreacher bowed, "if master says so!"

Harry wiped off his face with a towel before heading upstairs towards his bedroom and a bath. Arriving there, Harry was unsurprised to see that Kreacher had already filled the bath and heated it to the perfect temperature. The feeling of warm water around his tired muscles was so relaxing and soothing. Already many of his aches and pains were fading into the background.

Harry's eyelids began to fall and within a couple of minutes he was sleeping. Not only sleeping but dreaming as well. He was in a large cavern, lying on something hard, probably the floor of the cave. He tried to move but for some reason found that he couldn't. A drop of something landed on his head and he screamed. It was bad, so very, very bad. Agony swept through his body. Whatever it was seemed to burn through his head yet his own body was healing as he did so, refusing to allow him to escape the torment by dying. A thousand times worse than the cruciatuscurse yet focused all on one part of his body.

Harry's eyes were writhing in his head as though he were a man possessed. His whole body was twitching as the acid burnt its way through his head. A shadow of someone or something loomed over him but before Harry could get a proper glimpse of what his torturer looked like, a flood of water hit him.

He woke up coughing, trying to get the water out of his lungs. Looking around Harry saw he was sitting in a mixture of bath water and his own vomit. Kreacher was standing next to his bed with a bucket in his hands, looking immensely worried.

"Kreacher heard master's screams," he said, "master was having a very bad dream so Kreacher woke master up."

Harry stood up and got out of his bath, he didn't want to stay in that mixture that was for sure. Taking the towel which Kreacher offered him, Harry patted himself dry.

"Thank you Kreacher, you did the right thing," he shuddered as he remembered the pain he had experienced. The sounds of people moving around downstairs suddenly worried him.

"Did the Order hear anything?"

Kreacher shook his head, "no master, Kreacher silenced the room as soon as he heard master's scream."

Harry sighed a sigh of relief. The Order would immediately think that Voldemort was making another attempt to possess him or he was experiencing another one of his visions, both of which they would end up sticking their large noses into his affairs. These dreams weren't related to Voldemort and so they were no business of the Order or Dumbledore.

*****WOTG*****

After the incident Harry took a shower to wash himself clean and then settled down on his bed to read a book on defence. Twenty minutes after he had settled down Kreacher popped into the room and told him that the Order meeting had finished and that Dumbledore wished to speak to Harry downstairs.

Dumbledore was waiting for him and the bottom of the stairs.

"Ah Harry, my boy, there you are. There are a number of things I need to tell you, first of all it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."

"Private…..with you?" said Harry, surprised.

To his knowledge Dumbledore had never offered private lessons to anyone, even when he had been a transfiguration teacher. Such lessons were highly sought after and so Harry wasn't going to willing give up the opportunity to learn from one of the greatest wizards of the last few hundred years.

"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."

"What will you be teaching me, sir?" Harry asked, imagining highly complex battle magic or advanced transfiguration.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Dumbledore airily.

Harry waited hopefully, but Dumbledore did not elaborate. He wondered whether it would be worth trying to force the matter before deciding it couldn't hurt, Dumbledore was hardly going to withdraw his offer.

"Perhaps, Professor, if you tell me I could do a bit of theory work in advance, so we only need to do practical work in the lessons," he suggested hopefully.

Dumbledore chuckled, "as a teacher I suppose I should be impressed by your work ethic however in this case I'm afraid to say that it will not help. I plan to teach you a little of Riddle's childhood before he became Lord Voldemort."

Harry just stared at his Headmaster in amazement, dreams of learning powerful new magic flying out of the window. Before he could help himself he blurted out:

"If I wanted to know his life-story, I would be asking him to write an autobiography rather than be trying to kill him."

Dumbledore chuckled again, this time in genuine amusement. "That aside Harry, I think this will help."

At this point Harry realised that he could use this to his advantage "If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have time to be able to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?"

"Professor Snape, Harry….and no you will still have to continue the lessons, I am sure that if you put time towards organising yourself perhaps enlisting the help of the excellent young Miss Granger than you will have time."

Harry started to get worried in case this all backfired, "but sir, I have my NEWTS to work for, as well as your lessons and teaching most of the school during DA."

Dumbledore frowned, "I suppose that is true, very well I shall allow you to stop the lessons. I don't think that Voldemort will try to possess you again, anyway after he failed last time."

Harry prevented himself from asking Dumbledore what the point was then for trying to get Harry to go to the lessons if Voldemort was not going to try again. Instead he choose a more tactful approach.

"Good," said Harry in relief, "because they were a …"

He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought. Swearing in front of a teacher, a headmaster in particular, is never a good idea.

"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here," said Dumbledore, nodding.

Harry laughed.

"Well, that means I won't see much of Professor Snape from now on," he said, "because he won't let me carry on Potions unless I get 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., which I know I haven't."

"Don't count your owls before they are delivered," said Dumbledore gravely. "Which, now I think of it, ought to be some time soon, tomorrow morning I should think."

*****WOTG*****

Harry came down the next morning to find all the Weasleys and Hermione sitting at the table in the kitchen. They were all talking about Fred and George's shop, Harry almost said something but fortunately managed to control his tongue before it said something it shouldn't. After all how was Harry supposed to know anything about the shop when he had been confined to either Privet Drive or here for the whole summer. Hermione was talking about this punching telescope of the twins that had resulted in the furious black eye that currently adorned her face.

Harry collapsed in the seat at the head of the table. This was another of Kreacher's little things, he refused to allow anyone else to sit at the head of the table apart from Harry and always made sure to save his seat for him. The twins had told Harry a funny story about the first Order meeting after Harry's conversion of Kreacher when Dumbledore sat down in the chair, only for it to disappear from under him causing him to fall and land badly on the floor. Apparently the two of them had been unable to restrain their laughter and had been sent out of the room by their mother because of it.

"...and bruises generally. I have tried everything nothing works," concluded Hermione. "I wonder how they managed to be able to enchant it to stop normal creams when they only got as many OWLS as they did."

That questioned seemed to spawn another one in her mind.

"I wonder when our O.W.L. results will come?" she asked, clearly seriously worried about them.

"Can't be long now, it's been a month," said Ron.

Harry decided to have a little bit of fun at Hermione's expense.

"Hang on," said Harry. "You guys haven't had yours yet? I've had been for a week, everyone has. Neville owled me to say how he had got an O in Herbology."

The look on Hermione's face made the inevitable explosion all the more worth it. She looked like she was about to faint.

"Last week," she repeated in a whisper, "why have they delayed ours then. Perhaps that's what happens when you fail everything so they can decide what to do with you."

Harry was unable to restrain himself he burst out laughing. Indeed he was laughing so much that he fell off his chair onto the floor. Everyone else at the table was either sniggering or laughing outright at Ron and Hermione's expressions of relief. Even Ron eventually saw the funny side and allowed himself a little smile. Hermione on the other hand, her fury could crush rocks at that moment.

"Harry James Potter, how could you?" she screamed, "when do they actually come, tell me!"

Harry grinned "today!"

"Today?" shrieked Hermione. "Today? But why didn't you... oh my God... you should have said..."

She leapt to her feet. "I'm going to see whether any owls have come..."

She disappeared out of the room before coming back a couple of minutes later looking distraught.

"I know I messed up Ancient Runes," muttered Hermione feverishly, "I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back-"

"Hermione, will you shut up, you're not the only one who's nervous!" barked Ron. "And when you've got your eleven 'Outstanding O.W.L.s...'"

"Don't, don't, don't!" said Hermione, flapping her hands hysterically. "I know I've failed everything!"

"What happens if we fail?" Harry asked the room at large, but it was again Hermione who answered.

"We discuss our options with our Head of House, I asked Professor McGonagall at the end of last term."

Harry's stomach squirmed. He wished he had eaten less breakfast. He knew that he hadn't failed everything but of course that was little comfort.

"At Beauxbatons," said Fleur complacently from the other end of the table, "we 'ad a different way of doing things. I think eet was better. We sat our examinations after six years of study, not five, and then..."

Fleur's words were drowned in a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.

"They're definitely owls," said Ron hoarsely, jumping up to join Hermione at the window.

"And there are three of them," said Harry, hastening to her other side.

"One for each of us," said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Oh no... oh no... oh no..."

She gripped both Harry and Ron tightly around the elbows. It was really quite painful, she had the grip of a vice that girl did.

The owls were flying directly at kitchen window of Grimmauld Place, three handsome tawnies, each of which, it became clear as they flew lower over the path leading up to the house, was carrying a large square envelope.

"Oh no!" squealed Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley squeezed past them and opened the kitchen window. One, two, three, the owls soared through it and landed on the table in a neat line. All three of them lifted their right legs.

Harry moved forward. The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He untied it with fumbling fingers. To his left, Ron was trying to detach his own results; to his right, Hermione's hands were shaking so much she was making her whole owl tremble.

Nobody in the kitchen spoke. At last, Harry managed to detach the envelope. He slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment inside.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level Results**  
Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy A  
Care of Magical Creatures E  
Charms E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts O  
Divination P  
Herbology E  
History of Magic D  
Potions E  
Transfiguration E

Harry read the parchment through several times, his breathing becoming easier with each reading. It was all right: he had always known that he would fail Divination, and he had had no chance of passing History of Magic, given that he had collapsed halfway through the examination, but he had passed everything else! He ran his finger down the grades... he had passed well in Transfiguration and Herbology, he had even exceeded expectations at Potions! And best of all, he had achieved "Outstanding" at Defense Against the Dark Arts!

He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted.

"Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about them?" he said happily to Harry. "Here... swap..."

Harry glanced down Ron's grades: There were no "Outstandings" there...

"Knew you'd be top at Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Ron, punching Harry on the shoulder. "We've done all right, haven't we?"

"Well done!" said Mrs. Weasley proudly, ruffling Ron's hair. "Seven O.W.L.s, that's more than Fred and George got together!"

"Hermione?" said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still hadn't turned around. "How did you do?"

"I-not bad," said Hermione in a small voice.

"Oh, come off it," said Ron, striding over to her and whipping her results out of her hand. "Yep... ten 'Outstandings' and one 'Exceeds Expectations' at Defense Against the Dark Arts." He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"

Hermione shook her head, but Harry laughed.

"Well, we're N.E.W.T. students now!" grinned Ron. "Mum, are there any more sausages?"

Harry looked back down at his results. They were as good as he could have hoped for. A passed Harry would have felt a tiny twinge of regret but not this one. To another Harry this would have been the end of his ambition to become an Auror. He would not have secured the required Potions grade. Harry had known all along that he wouldn't get it, but yet the other Harry, the naïve one, buried deep in him still felt a sinking in his stomach as he looked again at that small black E.

But to this Harry he didn't feel too bad about it. It was odd, really, seeing that it had been a Death Eater in disguise who had first told Harry he would make a good Auror, but somehow the idea had taken hold of him, and he couldn't really think of anything else he would like to be. He wasn't sure what had caused him to change his mind about this particular career path. Whether it was the Prophecy as it made the difference between choosing to hunt dark wizards and being forced to by fate or through everything Harry had seen and done since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place, he did not know.

*****WOTG*****

Harry had made a decision; he was going to tell his friends about the Prophecy. It was the only honourable thing to do, the blasted thing had painted a large target on his back and he would not blame should they choose to keep their distance.

"Ron, Hermione there is something I need to talk to you about! Alone!"

He could see both of them look at each other with significant glances before they followed him upstairs into the bedroom that Ron and Harry had shared last year. He sat on the bed and waited for them both to file in and stand in front of him.

"There is something that I think you need to know. It's about the prophecy."

Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke. Harry had the impression that both had frozen. He continued, still speaking to his fork, "You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry."

"Nobody knows what it said, though," said Hermione quickly. "It got smashed."

"Although the Prophet says..." began Ron, but Hermione said, "Shh!"

"The Prophet's got it right," said Harry, looking up at them both with a great effort: Hermione seemed frightened and Ron amazed. "That glass ball that smashed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said," Harry took a deep breath, "it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort... At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

The two of them gazed at him with looks of pity in silence for a moment.

"Harry, oh, Harry..." Hermione said her eyes brimming slightly.

She sat down on the edge of the bed upon which Harry was sitting and put an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

"We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry... Obviously, we didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this... Oh, Harry..." She stared at him, then whispered, "Are you scared?"

"Not as much as I was," said Harry. "When I first heard it, I was... but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end..."

Ron clapped his shoulder in what he thought was a supportive way but only resulted in Harry rubbing the offended spot.

"If you guys want to stop being friends with me, I totally understand…." Harry began awkwardly.

Hermione fixed him with a glare that made some of her earlier ones look positively heart-warming.

"Harry," she said, glare still in place, "did we abandon you whilst stopping Quirrel in first form, did Ron refuse to enter the Chamber, did we leave you in the Ministry? No, we stayed with you then we are staying with you now!"

Harry looked at Ron, "my record hasn't been as spotless as Hermione's but I will be will be with you, 'til the end!"

A warmth was spreading through him; a tight obstruction in his chest seemed to be dissolving. He knew that Ron and Hermione were more shocked than they were letting on, but the mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them.

At that moment Kreacher popped in, looking distraught.

"Master, the mudbloods and the bloodtraitors they have broken down the wards into the library and are removing books from it," he sobbed.

Harry stood his face was deadly calm but inside emotion was threatening to overwhelm him. He had allowed the Order to use his house as their headquarters and now this was happening. They were taking his possessions, possessions that had been left to him by his godfather.

"Leave this to me Kreacher I will deal with it," he said, a quaver in his voice the only thing that betrayed the emotion running through him.

Hermione seized his arm, "Harry I am sure the Headmaster has some reason for doing this, like the library being full of dark arts books!"

Harry looked down at the hand gripping his arm, before slowly prizing his arm loose, "I am sure he does as well but why did he not come to me and explain. Dark arts books or not, they are mine and he should have talked to me about it. This is just the same as stealing!"

At this moment Ron joined in, "but Harry it's the Headmaster!"

"That doesn't make him above the law!" Harry said angrily.

He swept out of the room, unconsciously mimicking Snape's walk. So his friends who moments before promised that they would stick with him through thick and thin now abandoned him. Just because instead of Voldemort who was attacking him it was Dumbledore.

Outside the library Harry found the elder two Weasley boys, stacking books into boxes and sealing the boxes with spell-o-tape. Bill must have been the one to bring down the wards, as a curse breaker for Gringott's he was the only one in the Order that Harry had met so far who had the skill. Before they could react both brothers found themselves stunned and stuck to the ceiling with a sticking charm.

Storming into the library Harry saw the Headmaster overseeing the two Weasley parents, Tonks and some of the other Order members that Harry did not know the names of as they worked removing books from the selves to be placed in the boxes.

"What is going on here?" Harry asked in such a clipped, polite tone it would have made Lucius Malfoy proud.

"Ahh, Harry my boy…" the Headmaster began.

"I don't want your bullshit excuses Dumbledore. I asked what is going on here?" Harry said looking the old wizard in the eye.

"Harry Potter do not talk to the Headmaster like that. Apologise immediately!" Mrs Weasley looked mortified at his lack of respect.

Harry simply transferred his glare on her and that cooled her down for a moment.

"From now on no Order members are allowed to leave the bottom floor of the house without my permission. Any that break this rule I will give permission to Kreacher to arrange an accident for. Perhaps fatal ones for repeat offenders," Harry said looking at Dumbledore again.

"Please Harry don't you think that is a little extreme," Dumbledore said, clearly aghast at what Harry was suggesting.

"No Headmaster I don't. However what I do feel is uncalled for is for you to come into someone's house and steal his possessions without informing him. That is theft! And let me say something else, as well as that fatal accident your Order will have to be finding itself a new Headquarters as well as a new member."

Tonks was looking at the whole situation in absolute horror as she realised what was happening. She clearly had not been told that Harry didn't know about the emptying of the library. Some of the other Order members looked slightly guilty but most of them wore expressions of resolve. Both of the Weasleys looked conflicted but moved to support Dumbledore.

"Kreacher!" Harry called.

A couple of the Order members gripped their wands closer but a gesture from Dumbledore caused them to loosen their grips. When the elf appeared Harry smirked predatorily at Dumbledore, who blanched slightly clearly wondering what Harry had in mind.

"Kreacher you know the Order's safe of secret documents," Harry said, causing Kreacher to nod and Dumbledore to pale further, "for every Order member who is above the ground floor in five minutes you are to deposit one of those documents in Malfoy Manor where it can be found and brought to Voldemort. In addition for every book they remove you are do the same and if there are any Order members above the ground floor in quarter an hour's time or Dumbledore tries anything you will deposit both of the unconscious Weasleys outside as well! Is that clear?"

Kreacher's eyes were wide with admiration but everyone else was in various states of fury, fear and betrayal.

Dumbledore in particular looked bad, "Harry doing so will only strengthen Voldemort and then how can you defeat him? What has happened to you that you are willing to do something like this? These books must have corrupted you."

Harry looked at him angerily, "Dumbledore spare me the whole 'fight for the cause' shit because I don't care about it. The only reason I fight is to save my friends and my loved ones and in case you didn't realised that is mostly the Order."

They looked puzzled, having no idea where this was leading. Dumbledore did from the look of it and Harry thought he saw Tonks cottoning on as well.

"So when I find my so-called friends stealing from me, I begin to wonder why should I fight at all? I mean I know Voldemort will come after me but here under the Fidelius Charm I am safe, I just revert control of the charm back to the owner of the property, that is me. The rest of magical Britain can burn for all I care, all because you choose to steal from me."

They realised it then, they realised who badly they had screwed up. Most of them looked like they were about to lose all hope , their Saviour was now refusing to fight for them. Not Dumbledore though, the man was a politician. He knew as well as Harry did that Harry had no thought of giving up the fight, yet he knew he had to compromise. But he decided to make one last ditch attempt.

"Harry these are darks arts books, they must be destroyed before they corrupt anyone else," he tried to reason with Harry.

Harry simply raised his eyebrows, "and must I be destroyed as well before I corrupt anyone, I mean I possess a dark art. Parseltongue. Besides these are part of my inheritance from Sirius, I will not willing part with them. Had you come to be beforehand with the situation I might have allowed you to remove some of the books, however you didn't and so now I won't."

Tonks seemed to be getting tired of them playing games with each other because she angerily said, glaring at both of them.

"Both of you, start negotiating now before that blasted elf carries through with Harry's threat."

Harry and Dumbledore both nodded and Dumbledore motioned for Harry to go first.

"First of all, no Order members above the ground floor. Secondly, Mundungus Fletcher is to never enter this house again. Third all books and Black heirlooms shall be returned to their rightful places immediately. Fourth, I want training sessions with Tonks as my supervisor. Fifth, control of Fidelius charm is handed to me. Sixth, I am allowed to leave the house should I choose. Yours?"

Dumbledore looked at Tonks, who had raised her eyebrows at the fourth condition, but she just shrugged and smiled at Harry. Dumbledore returned his attention to Harry.

"I agree to all your terms apart from the second, the fifth and the sixth. Mundungus simply must be allowed in, he is a member of the Order and this is the Order's Headquarters."

Harry shrugged "but it is my house first and what type of man willing allows a thief free access into his home. Besides I entrusted my life to that man last summer and he failed me so I cannot trust him. In response to your rejection to the fifth condition, well as it is my house I would rather the wards were under my control, thereby I have full control over who enters my house and cannot be blackmailed into anything with a threat of giving away the address!"

"Harry I would never….." to Dumbledore's credit, he did look absolutely scandalised by the idea.

Unfortunately for him Harry had already thought of what to say next.

"And should you die Dumbledore? What then? Then there would be around fifty secret keepers running around any of whom could betray me, people like Mundungus. I can't allow that to happen for my own safety." Harry said calmly.

Dumbledore sighed "very well I agree to hand over the wards and I agree to the sixth condition with some conditions of my own. You are allowed out only once a week and you go with an Order escort. Do you agree to those conditions?"

Harry thought for a moment, really they weren't too bad; if he was unlikely to want to go out more than once a week anyways and as for the Order guard, well in a way he would feel better for it and he could just ask Tonks to come thereby meaning that he got some discrete good company along the way.

He nodded "very well I agree to your conditions!"

The surrounding Order members sighed relieved, unknowingly letting out breaths they had been holding. Suddenly realising where they were however, the members quickly filed out of the library and down the stairs, Dumbledore following pausing only to remove the two Weasley brothers from the ceiling. Once he was satisfied they were all gone, Harry turned to Kreacher who had been watching the performance with awe over his face.

"Kreacher, ensure the Order have totally vacated these floors and then collect all the books and return them to their proper places. Do a check as well once you have finished!"

Kreacher bowed low, "master is indeed a great master, he acts with all the pureblood nobility of one of the Blacks themselves."

Harry smiled and allowed himself a little chuckle, "perhaps my mother was not a muggleborn after all!"

He laughed but that laugh faltered when he saw Kreacher's face, it was lit up as if he realised something. It was feverish and he looked like he was about to explode.

"That is what she must be. Master's snake speak must come from her, they said Salazar Slytherin had green eyes…."

Harry watched in amazement as Kreacher reached the conclusion that in actual fact Lily Potter was the pureblood descent of Salazar Slytherin himself who had been stolen at birth from her proper pureblood family and raised by tyrannical muggles who treated her as a slave, her ignorant of her true heritage. Harry was impressed and rather pleased, if Kreacher wanted to think he was descended from Slytherin then let him, it wouldn't hurt Harry.

**AN: Right there, next chapter meeting some of the characters from Percy Jackson. For pairings, I will tell you that it will not be slash and I am considering a harem although a single pairing looks more likely. Any other ideas or requests please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: As mentioned earlier the Percy Jackson characters are the age and appearance of the film characters, as the ages fit better. In terms of the Percy Jackson timescale this is occurring a couple of months before the theft of Zeus' bolt.  
**

Chapter 5

Harry was livid. Not two days after making the deal in the library, Dumbledore had already broken it. Having found out about Harry's little trip into Diagon Alley, the Headmaster had refused to allow Harry to leave the house. Not only that but he was also refusing to hand over control of the fidelius charm. What right did Dumbledore have to keep him cooped up inside the house? That had been the mistake he had made with Sirius and they had all seen the result of that.

He had taken some of his anger out by violently slashing a carcass of a pig which Kreacher had got for the kitchen. By the time that he had finished a good twenty minutes later, most of the meat was ready cut into thin strips and Harry was looking for something else. As Dumbledore had broken his end of the bargain Harry thought that as far as he was concerned he was not obliged to keep his and so had left the house in order to go for a walk around muggle London.

That's where Harry currently was, sitting on the swings in a muggle play park much as he had done back in Surrey. Although he knew Dumbledore's reason for forbidding Harry to leave the house, his hypocrisy was really annoying Harry. Dumbledore said he wanted Harry to have an ordinary childhood yet insisted on imprisoning him, what normal child lived their life behind bars in their own homes?

It was getting late, he had just finished supper when Dumbledore had arrived and read him the riot act. Lupin and Ron hadn't supported him whilst both and Hermione and Mrs Weasley had both told him off as well. What right did they have to tell him what he could and could not do? They were his friends not his guardians. Harry's only consolation was that Dumbledore had clearly not found out why Harry was in Diagon Alley because he had yet to confiscate the knife, which even now Harry wore strapped to his arm.

It was now past ten and it was starting to getting rather chilly. Deciding that it was time to head back to the house, Harry rose from the swing and with his hands in his pockets started to head back up the street in the direction of Grimmauld Place. As well as cold it was also getting rather dark, there was still some light left but only enough to create twilight haze around everything that Harry could see.

As he passed an old factory that marked the entrance into Grimmauld Place, Harry heard the sound of two people running coming from the road behind him. Quickly ducking into the doorway of a house that stood nearby in case it was Death Eaters or Order members, Harry waited for a couple of moments before glancing out to see who it was.

A boy and a girl, both of whom looked like they were around his age, were running down the street, constantly checking over their shoulders for something. They came to a stop in front of the factory, not ten metres from where Harry was currently standing. The boy had dark skin and crutches, yet had still managing to move at a fair pace somehow while the girl had dark brown hair and deep, deep blue eyes.

"I think we lost it," the girl gasped out, trying to catch her breath.

The boy who had taken a seat on a small block of stone to take the weight off his legs and was likewise out of breath nodded in agreement. They tensed for a moment as a loose tile fell to the ground from the roof of the factory but after looking around for something and seeing nothing, they relaxed again.

Turning to her companion the girl asked "ready to move on yet?"

The boy nodded and stood but as he did so he sniffed the air. A particular smell caused him to stop and grasp the girls arm.

"Wait Annabeth stop, I smell a …..!" said he said, Harry leaned out a little further to try and catch the whole conversation but he missed the last section.

The girl crossed her arms and glared at the other one, "Grover we cannot delay, …. are getting close and …. so we can return to …..."

After a couple of moments she sighed, "very well we'll have a quick two minute search before we go. Is that enough for you to find him?"

Just at that moment they turned the corner and saw Harry standing there in the doorway. Seeing the girl's hand immediately going towards a sword at her waist, Harry quickly drew his knife and crouched low like he had seen in the movies. However the male grabbed the girl's arm and prevented her from drawing.

"That's him, the one I smelt," he said quietly before turning to Harry.

"Hello?" he said pleasantly, "you have family here?"

Harry shifted slightly. It was odd to walk up to a total stranger and ask for details of their personal life, wasn't it? At least they didn't recognise him, which meant that they were either muggles or perhaps wizards from abroad. Either way that mean that they were unlikely to be either Death Eaters or members of the Order, besides they were too young to belong to either. Harry simply shook his head in reply.

The boy turned to girl, "we could take him with us, Chiron is always telling us to be on the lookout for anyone else that we could bring to the camp."

The girl didn't look happy about the delay but agreed to the plan anyway. Turning back to Harry, the boy said "What's your name?"

"James," Harry said, choosing to lie until he knew whether he could trust these people, for they could turn him over to Voldemort if they found out who he really was.

It was clear neither of them believed him but the boy smiled anyways, "There are certain people in this world, James, who aren't quite human. They're something more, something better. You are one of those people. There are some people that I think you should speak to, if you are willing, people who are like you. They can help you, answer any questions you have and give you some training, train you to use your gifts to help protect yourself and the people that you love. Do you want to come with us?"

Up until the point where he mentioned training Harry was about to tell him to go to hell, but the offer of training intrigued him and he considered accepting. It wasn't like Dumbledore was training him and so any training he got would be useful against Voldemort. A loud thump shocked Harry out of his consideration. Something fell from the roof above them landing between Harry and the two.

Harry fumbled for his wand but then remembering the events of last summer with the dementors drew his knife from its sheath instead. As the thing straightened itself, Harry got a better look at what it actual was. A giant python. Ten metres at least in length with a width of around half a metre, this looked like a snake that would kill them easily. He reached for his wand, hang the bloody Ministry.

It lunged at Harry, who was barely able to get out of the way in time to stop the giant head from slamming into him. However he had forgotten about the tail which swept round and took him off his feet, slamming him into one of the buildings. The collision with the wall knocked the wind out of him and left him sitting there dazed.

The head straightened out and reared as it prepared the killing blow, before Harry remember what he could do.

"_Stop_" he hissed out in parseltongue.

The python hesitated for a moment but that moment was fatal as a sword swung and struck the head clean off. Harry had to roll to the side to prevent himself from being crushed by it. Pulling himself up Harry watched in amazement as the body of the serpent disintegrated leaving just the head remaining. The girl looked down at him in contempt for a moment before going over to where the head lay and looking up at the sky.

"I, Annabeth Chase, offer the spoils of my victory to the Goddess Athena!"

There was a flash of light and the head of the python also disappeared. The girl turned to Harry.

"Now what's your real name?" she demanded, clearing deciding to forgo whatever manners she might possess.

Harry glared back, now he had finished brushing himself down, "Harry Potter."

Seeing his glare, the girl lifted her sword, "if I were you, I would speak more politely to someone who just saved your life!"

Raising his own weapon, Harry retorted, "well thank heavens you're not, and as for the whole saving issue, I was quite ok I can assure you."

"Of course!" the girl snorted condescendingly.

The male, decided that now was the time to intervene before the hostility between the two erupted to more than just words, "hello Harry, my name is Grover Underhill and this as you probably heard is Annabeth Chase. Now might I suggest we be off before anything else comes?"

"Wait, where are you going?" Harry asked, if the offer of training was still on he was going to take it.

It was clear to him from the way the girl had moved that she was a trained fighter, someone who thought like Mad-Eye did. He wondered whether they would be able to train him like that, so that he might have a chance when the time came to confront Voldemort.

Grover turned, "We are going back to the camp, and you.." here he motioned at Harry "are coming with us, ok?"

"Will I still be able to return here for school in a month's time?" Harry asked, for angry as he might be with Dumbledore he didn't want to miss Hogwarts, the castle was the first true home he had ever known.

Grover nodded, "yeh you will have to arrange it with Chiron and Mr D, but they should allow you to although you will probably be set work to do while you are here."

Harry frowned but wasn't too unhappy, "I just need to grab some stuff from my house, where do you want me to meet you?"

Just as Harry had finished speaking a roar sounded in the distance, causing Annabeth to look around reaching for her weapon and Grover to say: "We have to go now, but we will meet you at Heathrow airport just inside the entrance, ok?" Grover said, taking up his crutches.

"Ok" Harry said, trying to get away before whatever else it was that was chasing them arrived, "see you there!"

Turning around in the direction of Grimmauld Place Harry ran off just as Annabeth and Grover disappeared in the opposite direction, towards wherever the sound had come from.

As Harry hurried back he considered whether he ought to be dropping everything and going off to wherever this camp was. Was the fact that he would be getting training worthy the worry that it would cause to everyone he left behind? Or the trouble he would be it when he got back?

Mrs Weasley would be the worst Harry knew, she would be almost beside herself with worry and so he hoped that he might be able to avoid her when he returned from the camp, at least until she cooled down a little bit. Dumbledore would give him the whole disappointed grandfather routine but Harry could ignore that so that was ok. Hermione would have a proper go at him and unfortunately unlike Mrs Weasley he wouldn't be able to avoid her when he got to Hogwarts.

Hang it all, he would go he decided. After all he wouldn't learn much here and if he would there than he might as well go. From the sound of it they were going abroad and so Voldemort would be unlikely to be able to capture and kill him, so it wasn't like he would be in any danger.

He would leave a message from Dumbledore with Kreacher, he decided. Dumbledore would at least appreciate the need and understand the reason why Harry was going off even if he wouldn't be particularly happy with it.

Entering Grimmauld Place Harry called Kreacher to him.

"Kreacher, I am going somewhere for the next month. I want you to remain here and look after things, don't let the Order chuck out anything that you think shouldn't be. If Dumbledore asks tell him I will be back for the start of school and they can still contact me by owl. I will write him a note myself which I want you to give to him?" Harry asked.

"Yes master," the old elf croaked, "would master like me to prepare his luggage for him?"

Distracted Harry waved him off as he considered his note for Dumbledore. Fishing a piece of parchment and a quill out of a desk Harry began.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_I have just received the offer of training from someone and so will be gone for the next month. I know you will say this is reckless and foolish but I need all the training I can get to help with the Prophecy. I will return for the beginning of term in time to get by school stuff._

_If you have an urgent message send it with Kreacher otherwise feel free to owl._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Harry_

Deciding that that would be enough to explain things to a good enough level that the Order would be unlikely to freak out, Harry put it in an envelope and gave it to Kreacher with orders to deliver it to Dumbledore. However Harry was careful to order Kreacher to wait until Harry had got far enough before delivering the letter so that Dumbledore couldn't interfere.

In the meantime Kreacher had brought down Harry's trunk with all its contents and had shrunken it so as it would fit in his pocket. Catching a taxi to Heathrow airport was easy and upon entering he settled down just inside the door and waited.

It was a good twenty minutes before Grover and Annabeth arrived, the latter did not seem pleased that he had managed to find his way to the airport but Harry didn't care. From what he had seen of her she seemed to be a stuck-up bitch, reminding Harry of many of the girls in Slytherin. As Annabeth went over to get her ticket and deposit her luggage Harry nudged Grover.

"Any reason why she doesn't seem to like me very much?" he asked.

"I wouldn't be worried about it, Annabeth is like this with everyone when she first meets them. I think she feels that they have to prove themselves before she'll be nice to them." Grover replied. "Come on we'll go now!"

He stopped when he realised Harry wasn't following him. When he asked why, Harry shrugged.

"I don't have a passport."

This admission left Grover speechless, "how do you think you are going to get on the plane if you don't have a passport, you will need it to get through security?"

Harry just smirked at him, "just give me the details of the flight and I'll see you on the plane."

Still slightly stunned Grover told Harry to get on the 5.40pm flight to New York which Harry noted down on a piece of parchment that he had in his pocket. As Grover went to check in his own luggage Harry found a quiet spot and threw his cloak over him before waiting for his two companions to finish.

When they had finished Harry was amused to see Grover looking around for him before he was dragged off by Annabeth.

"But he was right here, Annabeth, I turn my back for a couple of seconds and he manages to disappear." Grover was getting slightly hysterical.

From the look of it Annabeth was not particularly missing him, "ohh shut up, Grover, he will have disappeared to where ever he came from, he does look the weak and unreliable type."

Miss Chase was the victim of a terrible tripping jinx because of that particular comment. Harry didn't have to worry about the Ministry now as he had found, or rather been shown by Kreacher, a spell in one of the Black Library books that allowed the caster to temporally block the signal the wand gave out. The only downside of this particular spell was that it drastically reduced the maximum amount of power that could be channelled through the wand for as long as the spell was active. Some of the power was used instead of powering the spell to jam the Ministry detection receivers. Fortunately for Harry a tripping jinx does not require huge amounts of power.

Getting past security was simple, Harry simply levitated himself over barrier and waited, amused at the massive queue through which every other would-be passenger was forced to endure. There was still half an hour to go before the gate opened for boarding and so Harry spent his time browsing in the shops. Apart from getting himself a drink and a packet of crisps, Harry bought a new pair of shoes and with the aid of a confounding charm, a bottle of whisky. Harry had enjoyed his night with Lupin and having tried the wizarding variety now he wanted to try the muggle stuff.

Once the gate was opened all Harry needed to do was walk through, his cloak prevented him being noticed by any of the muggles and when one caught sight of a single trainer floating in mid-air, another quick confundus charm was all that was required.

Making his way down the plane, Harry kept his eyes out for any sign of either Annabeth or Grover. Around half way down he found them; Annabeth was sitting reading a book, which most certainly was not in English, whilst Grover was sitting a couple of rows back from her next to a guy with sandy blond hair and a scar running down the side of his face. Deciding Grover would be infinitely better company for the long flight, Harry collapsed into a spare seat on Grover's other side.

"Hello, miss me?" he said, leaning back into the uncomfortable seat.

Grover looked up, "You're not going to tell me how you managed to get through security and onto the plane without a passport, are you?"

"Nope!" Harry grinned cheekily, "but it might have something to do with the fact people can't resist me!"

The guy next to Grover laughed. Harry looked at Grover and indicated towards him, asking if he was one of them.

"Oh yeh! Harry this is Luke Castellan, Councillor of Cabin 11, which is where you will be likely to stay when you are at the camp. Luke this is Harry Potter, the newbie I told you about!"

Luke held out his hand which Harry shook. The other two asked Harry about his life so far, he was careful to not give anything about magic, just mentioning that his parents had died when he was young and he had been raised by relatives who hated him. It turned out that Harry was correct in his assessment of their ages; Grover said that he was roughly sixteen, whereas both Annabeth and Luke were older than he was. Annabeth by only a couple of months and Luke by just over a year.

"Excuse me this is my seat!"

Harry looked up to see a middle aged women with an American accent looking down at time. Her demand was rather petty as well as there were plenty of other seats on the plane which she could easily sit in instead. Besides she was waving her ticket in his face, and Harry hated stuff being shoved at his face, it reminded him too much of life at the Dursleys. Harry looked at Grover who just shrugged and started to move so that they could continue their talk somewhere else but Harry just winked at him. Discreetly flicking his wand at her from under his seat, Harry confounded the woman. Once he noticed the change in expression that signalled the spell was successful, Harry spoke.

"Why don't you go and sit somewhere else, there are plenty of other spaces elsewhere?" he suggested innocently.

A moment later the woman shook her head and the vacant expression disappeared.

"Sorry about that boys, I must have spaced out. Tell you what I will go and find somewhere else to sit. There are plenty of other spaces on the plane!" she said smiling at them.

Once she had gone, Grover turned to Harry in amazement, "another thing to add to the list of things that you are not going to tell me about. How you are able to do that?"

Harry just laughed and refused to say anymore. The boys continued with the trivia banter until sometime into their flight, when the majority of the rest of the passengers, including Annabeth, had fallen asleep. After doing a quick scout of those nearby to check that all was clear whilst pretending to go to the loo, Harry returned to his seat swapping places with Grover so that he could sit between them.

"Now you have some things to answer," Harry whispered to Grover, "start talking."

Grover nodded and thought for a moment.

"I don't know how much you know so I will start from the beginning. The gods, the Greek ones, are real. They have always existed and probably always will. Occasionally, like in the myths, they come down to earth and 'hook-up' with mortal weapon. Nine months later a demi-god is born, half mortal half god. That's what you are!"

Harry didn't quite believe what he was hearing, "me, a demi-god. Is it possible that you've got it wrong?"

His fellow passenger shook his head, "remember back outside that factory, I said to Annabeth that I could smell something?"

Harry nodded, that was the sentence that he couldn't hear the end of.

"Yeah, what I was smelling was you! Demi-gods, gods and monsters all have particular smells that I can pick up!"

Harry was confused, "I am not quite getting this but carry on anyway. How could you smell me?"

At this Grover looked nervously over the chairs in front of him before checking behind him to ensure that no one was looking. Once he was sure he rolled up the bottom of the tracksuits he was wearing to reveal….

"Hair? What type of animal you?" Harry asked surprised but not alarmed after all he had seen worse.

"He's a satyr – half man, half goat." Luke leaned in, "don't call them animals, they get rather offended."

Harry nodded, satyrs were another of the magical creatures, like dwarves, that were considered to be a myth by wizards. Perhaps this camp might help him locate the sender of his knife.

Grover continued "Satyrs have acted as protectors of demi-gods and heroes since, well virtually forever. Our job is to go out into the world and find demi-gods and bring them back to Camp Halfblood where they will be properly trained and claimed by their godly parents."

"Claimed?" Harry asked, carefully cautious of what that might include.

"It's no big deal really, if your parent is impressed with you he sends a sign claiming you and then everyone knows who your parent is." Luke explained.

"Why do demi-gods need to be protected, why shouldn't they just be left to live their own lives instead of being dragged off to some camp!" Harry asked, feeling the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing again. "Why shouldn't they just be left along?"

Grover looked Harry in the eyes, "Remember what I said about how I was able to smell the present of a demi-god. Yes, so too can the monsters. They never die just are reincarnated and they have a bit of grudge against demi-gods."

"Why?" Harry asked, surely monsters would try to avoid heroes.

Luke explained, "because monsters are normally killed by demi-gods. To prevent this the monsters hunt out demi-gods and kill them when they are young to prevent them growing up and defeating them in the future."

"Why don't they die?" Harry asked, slightly creped out by something that was to all intents and purposes immortal and on the other side.

"Remember the python, at the factory," Harry nodded, "that was first killed by the God Apollo thousands of years ago but has been reincarnated and come back. That was why the body disappeared after Annabeth killed it. What remained was what heroes call spoils of war which the person who killed it can either choose to take as a trophy or offer to one of the gods as a sacrifice."

"So Annabeth offered the python's head to the goddess Athena?" Harry wondered aloud. "Does that mean that Athena is…"

"Annabeth's mother, yes," Grover said, "Luke there is a son of Hermes, although he doesn't get on with his father."

Harry was about to ask Luke why when a look from Grover stopped him. Obviously this was something that Harry should keep himself out of as much as possible.

"Where is this camp then? In New York?" Harry asked.

"Close to," Luke said, "it used to be near Mount Olympus but when Olympus moved so too did the camp."

"Olympus moved?" Harry asked confused, "how can a mountain move?"

Luke smiled, this obviously bothered everyone the first time and so was a frequently asked question.

"The home of the gods on Olympus moved. It moves with western civilisation, wherever has the highest concentration of it that is where Olympus moves to. Part of the reason we are here in London, was that we are on a trip to see where it was when it was here."

"Where was it?" Harry asked curious.

Luke leaned in close, "there was a secret passage way through one of the platforms of King's Cross station between platforms ten and eleven."

Harry snorted and had to reign in any laughter as the irony hit him, two groups of supernatural beings had entries to their worlds within ten metres of each other and neither knew of the other.

"What are you laughing about? It's true!" Grover said perplexed.

"It's nothing," Harry said, trying to keep a straight face, "absolutely nothing!"

Then remembering his knife, Harry took outside of his sheath and handed it to Grover, who looked slightly puzzled until Harry elaborated.

"I found this in a box on my desk one day with a note asking me to give it to my father. Do you reckon it has anything to do with what I am, a demi-god I mean?" he asked.

Both Luke and Grover took turns in examining the blade and from the looks they exchanged neither of them recognised it.

"It's odd," Luke said, "I am good friends with some of the Hephaestus boys and I have seen nothing like this from them, although it could be a creation of their father's. I imagine it was another demi-god who dropped it off at your house, so it could be you're the son of Hephaestus and a hero is getting you to return a creation to its maker?"

Harry shook his head, "no, I went to some people who know about this kind of thing and they say the weapon was dwarven made. Does that help?"

"I wonder," Grover said thoughtfully, "a son of Poseidon, perhaps. The dwarfs have many of their caverns under the sea. Can you swim well?"

Harry shot that one down quickly, he hated swimming ever since Dudley had terrorised him one day at school by trying to drown him. Of course he had been the one punished by the Dursleys.

Luke however looked troubled, "who did you say you went to over this? You mention dwarves with ease, you are in contact with people who know of them and you barely blinked in comparison to most people when Grover told you he was a satyr."

Both of them looked at Harry suspiciously. He sighed he would have to reveal something otherwise they would not trust him.

"Goblins, I went to the goblins. Yes they are real, I have seen goblins, pixies, half-giants, centaurs, Cerberuses and acromantula." Harry said.

Luke and Grover both started asking questions at the same time, meaning that Harry couldn't hear a word of what either of them said. Looking at each other they seemed to come to some sort of arrangement and Luke spoke first.

"What the hell is an acromantula?" he asked.

"Giant spider," Harry said, shuddering as he remembered his experience in second year, "ranging from the size of a small car to that of a small house. Deadly poisonous and quite intelligent."

Luke grinned sadistically, "we have to introduce Annabeth to one of those!"

That startled Harry, "why? Is she afraid of spiders?"

Grover nodded, "all children of Athena are, stemming from something about the creation of spiders, I can't quite remember the exact story."

Harry smirked as he thought of all the ways in which he would force the prissy stuck-up bitch to take on the spiders. That would be suitable revenge for treating Harry like she had. His eyes widened in horror as he realised what he had been talking about, was he going dark? Was that why he had been having those dreams and feeling random desire for revenge at the smallest thing?

"Harry?"

He saw both Grover and Luke were looking at him oddly.

"Sorry, I spaced out a little bit. You had a question, Grover?" he said, quashing the feelings of fear rising in him.

"You said you had meet centaurs. Are they all drunkards and layabouts as Chiron has been telling us?" he asked.

Harry was confused, there were many things could you could call centaurs. Drunkards and layabouts were not two of them.

"No they are really wise and give prophecies constantly from studying the stars." Harry explained.

"Celtic centaurs," Grover breathed reverently, "we thought them extinct!"

"Why what other type are there?" He couldn't remember Hagrid mentioning different breeds when they had covered centaurs in Care of Magical Creatures.

"Hellenic," Luke said, "that's what Chiron is, he is one of the bosses at the camp."

They spent the sometime trying to worm tales out of Harry but he had decided to keep quiet about everything else and so they had moved on to telling Harry tales of their time at camp. What quests they had both been on and people they had met. They also spent some more time guessing about who Harry's possible parent could be, but had so far come up with no clear contender. After a while the other two slowly dropped off into sleep, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts.

A demi-god. The idea was totally alien to Harry, yet it fitted in part. Either James Potter or Lily Evans was not his parent, which in part explained the whole situation with the knife and Harry being asked to give it to his dead parents. Still he wondered how people at school would react. He shuddered at the thought of the response he would get from the blood purists in Slytherin. Hopefully everyone else would be fine with it.

Slowly dreaming of returning to Hogwarts with immeasurable powers under his command, vanquishing Voldemort and fulfilling the Prophecy, Harry slipped into sleep.

**AN: Sorry this took a little longer than I had originally planned but the addition of Luke on the plane was an idea that I had just before I put it up and so had do a quick bit of editing. I know some people might not quite appreciate my portray of Annabeth, I can assure a total turn around, it is just that having had to save him she sees him as weak at the moment.**

**As for the pairing, an official harem is probably off. Instead what I am thinking of is Harry acting like the gods were supposed to have, single pairings but not long ones. I will have him settle down after a while but only once I have decided who I am going to put him with. **


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Something I should have made clear in the last chapter was the reduction of power only occurred when the spell was in effect. It works as part of the power of the spell is diverted from the spell to jam the detector.  
**

Chapter 6

Getting off the coach Harry found himself at the bottom of a small track leading up a steep hill with a tall pine tree standing out from the rest of the trees.

The disembarking from the plane had been as easy as getting on it, easier even as he did not need to cast the spell to block detection of underage magic due to the Magical American government's laxity in controlling it. Annabeth had been continuing to just ignore his presence which strangely Harry found he did not mind as he was quite happy to walk behind her chatting to Grover and Luke.

He was quickly becoming close to both of them. Grover, Harry found, was as decent a guy as any Harry had met; he had some of Seamus' liveliness and at times some of Ron's rather gloomy outlook at things. He could also see that he would quickly become good friends with Luke, they were remarkably similar, both had experienced hard and unpleasant upbringings, had undergone challenges and bore scars to prove it. At least at this camp there would be people he knew he could get on with.

Once they had left the airport they had got on a coach that was heading in the direction of where Grover told him the camp was located.

"The entrance to the camp is just a little further on than that pine tree there," Grover said, pointing out the tree in question.

As Harry went further along the track, he found his senses pricking – something he couldn't describe was saying there was something wrong and they should get out there as soon as possible. Just as he was about to say something to Grover a huge bellow sounded from a field of cows to one side of the track. Looking back Harry saw something stand up and was shocked.

It was a creature he had only ever read about in some of his Care of Magical Creatures textbook, a minotaur. Just smaller than a small troll and just as well built with long shaggy hair and huge ivory horns, the beast was not fifty metres from where they were currently standing.

"Might I suggest we RUN!" Grover shouted, sprinting up towards the pine tree closely followed by the others. He paused for a moment to quickly remove his trousers and throw away his crutches, which had it been any other occasion Harry might have laughed at but this one he was too busy running to even think of doing so.

The minotaur stooped to pick up a huge boulder which it threw at the demi-gods with all its might. The rock just missed Grover's head and smashed into the small stone dyke running parallel with the track totally obliterating it and sending shards of stone flying. A particularly sharp bit of stone grazed Harry's cheek leaving a shallow cut from which blood began to stream.

Realising that he was falling behind Harry picked up the pace and followed Annabeth, Luke and Grover up the hill. He absolutely hated running, quidditch did nothing for a guy's stamina and so soon he was lagging even further behind the other three. By now they were nearing the arch and the entrance to the Camp. Putting on an extra burst of speed, Harry tore up the hill towards the entrance. Just as he burst into the clearing where the arch was, something bulldoze into him from behind, knocking him of his feet and into a tree.

Lying there dazed Harry felt two huge hands grab him and lift him high into the air. From his view from above Harry could see only the two ominously sharp points of the minotaur's horns and he realised what was going to happen. The minotaur was going to drop him onto his horns. Flailing wildly Harry managed to grasp the hilt of his knife with one hand.

At that moment the minotaur dropped him. As he fell Harry tried desperately to maneuverer his body to avoid the spikes. He only just succeeded the spike of one of the horns tearing his shirt and the skin underneath it. On his way down to the ground he slashed blindly at the minotaur's face and body. The creature bellowed in agony as warm drops of its blood sprayed Harry where he landed at the beast's feet.

It raised one of its huge legs to stamp on him but Harry moved quickly and ducked between its legs, slicing one of the beast's tendons as he did. The beast fell to its knees as its knees gave way and before it tried to get to its feet Harry moving behind it drew his knife across the beast's throat, cutting it.

The minotaur collapsed to the ground dead and as it did so, the whole body apart from one of the horns disappeared. Remembering what Annabeth had done in the street in London and what Grover had said on the plane, Harry looked towards the heavens and said:

"I, Harry James Potter, sacrifice this minotaur's horn to my divine parent, whoever he or she might be!"

Like the snake's head, the horn disappeared with a flash. Exhausted Harry turned towards the entrance to the Camp where he saw Grover, Luke and a centaur. Except this centaur was different to the centaurs that Harry knew in the Forbidden Forest, being more like a half-man, half horse than the centaurs in the forest who had a slightly odd hue to them.

Seeing that they were waiting for him, Harry jogged the last stretch to come to the top of the hill. Annabeth had now disappeared through the arch which from the looks of it was some sort of portal into the camp and that just left the satyr and the centaur.

"Harry this is Chiron, he is the activities director at the Camp. He will be in charge of all the training you do here," Grover introduced him.

"Good work out there," Chiron said, "not many campers could take on a minotaur before they had even entered the camp."

"Thank you sir," Harry said, awkward as he always was when he received praise.

Blood dripping from his cheek and the dull aching of abused muscles reminded Harry of his injuries and he staggered slightly before both Luke and Grover moved into support him.

Noticing Chiron said "Grover, Luke, can you take Mr Potter to the infirmary he can sleep there tonight and then tomorrow you can show him around the camp."

That was the last thing that Harry could remember as the toils of the day finally took their toll and he collapsed unconscious on the ground.

******WOTG******

It was morning when Harry woke up and he found himself in what he immediately recognised as an infirmary. He groaned.

"I hate infirmaries with a passion" he said as he tried to sit up.

"Might I saw I am glad to see you alive," came a voice, "you had us worried there for a moment!"

Straining to open his eyes Harry saw Grover sitting at the bottom of his bed.

"How are you feeling man, that minotaur certainly did a number on you. When you're ready to get up, I am to take you on a tour of the camp."

Harry nodded and slowly got out of bed. His body was aching and he could see that he was covered in many bruises from his numerous collisions with the ground, the tree and the minotaur. Pulling on some clothes which had been laid out next to his bed, Harry left the infirmary to find Grover sitting on the veranda eating what appeared to be a tin can. When he saw Harry he sprang to his feet.

"Ready, come on then let's go!"

Following Grover out they left the infirmary as they did so Harry saw that it was not a separate building rather part of a much larger one.

"That big house there is the Big House, that's the meeting place for the cabin leaders and it is where we go to get quests and the like."

At this point they turned a corner and Harry could see the whole camp through the trees. It occupied a whole valley that went out to the sea, with the far side of the valley being wooded. A stream followed through the middle of the camp, forming a lake down to the right of where they currently stood. Just beyond the lake on the other side of the river there was a large clearing in which there were a large number of what looked like magnificent houses grouped in a semi-circle around the centre of the clearing.

Harry stood there drinking in the view, before he felt a hand on his elbow.

"Come on let's go and see it from closer up."

Harry nodded before taking one last look and following Grover down the path. Soon they came to some courts in which Harry could see people playing a number of sports; tennis, volleyball and some games Harry didn't recognise. Examining the people Harry saw that they looked normal, although perhaps slightly more muscular than anyone else would be at their age, they seemed to range from around the age of five to eighteen.

"These are the volleyball courts, a number of inter-cabin events are played here and it is where people come to relax and play when they aren't training," Grover explained, "now turn round and look up the hill."

Harry turned and saw the arch that was the entrance to the camp and there behind it was the pine tree that Grover called Thalia's tree. When Harry asked why it was called that Grover told him how when he was a young satyr and he was collecting three demi-gods, Annabeth, Luke and a girl called Thalia, a daughter of Zeus, they had been attacked by monsters just as they were about to enter the camp. Thalia had given her life to save them, although just before she died her father had taken pity on her and turned her into a pine tree that helped to protect the camp. Harry could tell that Grover seemed to blame himself for her death and so grasped the satyr's shoulder to comfort him. Grover clapped him back and trotted on.

"That there is the arts and crafts cabin…," he said pointing at a smallish building, which was clearly not a cabin, but rather a proper building. It was Greek in style and surrounded by a colonnade of pillars which offered views around the surrounding area so people could paint under cover. A little further on Grover pointed out a huge amphitheatre like the ones he had seen in history books on the Greeks and Romans. "The Amphitheatre there is when we all meet if there is a whole camp meeting or whenever Chiron or Mr D, normally Chiron, decides there ought to be a concert or a play put on."

At this point they came to a fork in the path, one road went straight on whilst the other curved off to their left down towards the lake. This was the path that Grover lead Harry down. The walk down to the lake was quite steep and Harry could see a number of children out on the lake in what looked like canoes. Reaching the bottom of the slope Harry saw that they were now at the opposite end of the lake from where he had first looked over the camp. Indeed Harry could see where he had been standing through a gap in the trees above him.

Grover had already moved on so Harry jogged to catch up with him. Next to the bridge over the river there was a boathouse that looked remarkably like the one at Hogwarts, it was the only building Harry had seen so far that didn't look like it was Greek. Just after crossing the bridge they came to the clearing of houses that Harry had seen from the ridge.

"These are the cabins where you will be staying," Grover said, "there are twelve in total, for each of the twelve Olympian gods; Zeus, Hera , Poseidon, Demeter, Dionysus, Hermes, Ares, Athena, Apollo, Aphrodite, Hephaestus and Artemis."

Harry did a quick count and found that there were twelve there. "That one there on top of that small bit of raised ground is Zeus', or Cabin 1," He pointed to a house that looked like it was the biggest out of all of them. It was marble, had huge pillars on the outside and doors that looked like they were made of bronze.

"That one there is Poseidon's cabin, or Cabin 3," Grover said, pointing to a house on the shores of the lake, that was open aired, had mooring spots for boats and was decorated with numerous carved tridents. "Of course those two are supposed to be honorary as the Big Three aren't supposed to have any children."

"Why? And who are the Big Three?" Harry asked.

"The Big Three are Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. The reason they are not supposed to have any children is because World War II was a war between their offspring, so Zeus made them swear never to have children again."

Harry was confused, "but I thought you said that Thalia…"

Grover shrugged, "Zeus decided to break his own law. He can do that, he is the king of the Gods after all."

Grover then showed Harry all the other cabins, although Harry really couldn't understand why they were called cabins as none of them were made of wood and they were all really quite spacious. When he asked Grover, the satyr shrugged and said they had been called cabins as long as he could remember, though perhaps when the Camp was first built they might have just been cabins. It fitted as Harry could hardly imagine the gods allowing their children to live in wooden shelters, their pride if not their parental concern wouldn't allow it. At last they reached the last one, which was the second largest out of all of them although slightly run down from the looks of it.

"This is the Hermes' cabin and is where all unclaimed demi-gods stay as well until their parents claim them." Grover said, "you will be staying here to begin with."

Harry nodded, he had heard most of this from Luke and Grover on the plane but he was obviously enjoying taking a tour and so Harry wasn't going to interrupt his flow. Realising that this might be his new accommodation for the next month Harry took a quick glance at the 'cabin', it was larger than the Dursley's house at Privet Drive was and looked really old. Harry kind of hoped that he would be claimed soon so that he could move into one of the nicer looking cabins, although he kind of hoping that his mother wasn't Aphrodite as her cabin's colour, well he didn't think would suit him very well.

Moving on a little they passed the armoury which Harry was told was where all the magical weapons from previous heroes was stored, those that weren't in museums or taken to the Heavens with them as they died. Harry declined the offer of another weapons as he was quite happy with his knife and his wand. As they went passed Grover told Harry about the rules of the capture the flag that they were due to play in a couple of days.

"Basically capture the flag is a game that the demi-gods play every Friday. There are two teams and the object is to capture the opponents' flag and bring it across the stream in the centre. Any weapons are allowed and the entire forest is used."

Harry nodded "so what are the teams then?"

"It is normally done by cabins although occasionally whenever the Hunters of Artemis come, it is the whole camp against them. Friday's game is the Ares and Athena cabins against the Hermes' cabin, so you are going to be playing unless you are claimed by then. Expect to lose, the two war gods' offspring on the same side it's going to be brutal and quick."

At this point they stopped because all that was left to see they could see from their current position. Grover pointed out the arena, which was where some of the combat training was held, the stables, which was where all the horses and other animals were kept, and the woods, where the great games of capture the flag where held.

As they were heading back Grover suggested that Harry stop in at the Hermes' lodge so he could introduce himself and see where he would be staying. Entering the cabin Harry found himself face-to-face with around ten youths sitting on the floor of a room, ageing from around the age of five to one who looked like he was nineteen.

"Cabin Eleven, this is Harry Potter. Harry these are the members of Cabin Eleven, Hermes' cabin. You will be staying with them until your determined." Grover said.

There was a general groan when Grover announced that he was yet to be determined, which Harry took to mean that your parent had yet to be determined.

"Is that you Harry?" a voice from outside shouted.

Luke came in ducking the low door, "good to see you out of the infirmary!"

"I hate infirmaries!" Harry muttered under his breath.

Luke clapped him hard across the back which was sore considering his tall and muscular build. "I told you I would be your counsellor on the plane, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you neglected to tell me what a counsellor was," Harry said.

"My bad. Basically I am in charge of the cabin, organising your training and deciding which side we take during capture the flag," Luke explained.

"Luke," Grover said, obviously there was somewhere else he ought to be. "can you look after him until supper and then take him to the mess hall. Cheers!"

Harry had a glance round the cabin, they were currently in what seemed like a common room which had a couple of sofas and not much more. On either side of the room there were two doors that lead off into other rooms. Luke noticed Harry looking.

"The door to my left," he said, "is where the children of Hermes stay. Each have their own small room and my one is the large one at the end. That's where to go if you have a problem. You however will be staying through here with the rest of the undetermined."

He beckoned Harry through the door on the right side of the room which lead onto a corridor which had five doors, two on each side and one at the end.

"Boys to the left, girls to the right and bathroom at the end. You normally have a room-mate, Ethan, but he is away at the moment with his family, should you stay long enough you'll meet him."

Luke opened the door and allowed Harry to have a look inside. The room was small, barely five metres by five metres and there were four beds in the room each with a chest, a wardrobe and a bedside cabinet. After the quick look Luke led Harry back into the main room and introduced each of the others in turn.

"Those are the Stroll brother, Connor and Travis, and Chris Rodriguez," he listed out another five names pointing at each in turn. Harry noticed that the ones he said were his half-brothers or half-sisters were easily recognisable; they all had rather sharp noses, upturned eyebrows and mischievous smiles like Harry was used to seeing on the Weasley twins. He mentally prepared himself for a whole series of pranks. Harry was also introduced to the other four unclaimed boys who slept in the other room, although the oldest of them was only thirteen.

Luke suggested that Harry go and unpack before supper. Pulling his trunk out of his pocket, Harry made sure no one was looking before tapping them with his wand returning them to their normal size.

Opening it he had a quick glance over what Kreacher had packed for him. He groaned as he realised there was only a couple of sets of normal muggle clothes, the rest was all various robes and the like, all of it wizarding. Aside for some quills and parchment there was also a couple of books which after reading their titles Harry frowned; _An Introduction to the Dark Arts _and _Different Fields of Dark Magic _as well as _A Study of British Pureblood Families _and _The Blacks: Always Pure_. There was also a small potions kit, a hamper of food and, to Harry's delight, his shrunken down Firebolt. Right at the bottom there was also a case of Fred and George's merchandise; decoys, skiving snack-a-boxes, darkness powder the lot. Harry smirked he was looking forward to seeing those in use while he was at the camp. Revenge pranks here we come. Harry was about to start to put everything in its place when he remember that as well as being patron god of travellers Hermes was also patron god of thieves and so there was a chance his sons might be a little light-fingered. So removing just his muggle clothes Harry re-shrank his trunk and using a sticking charm, stuck it to the underside of his bed where it was unlikely to be found.

Once he had finished he returned to the main section of the cabin where he was immediately demanded by some of the younger children about the minotaur. So he spent the rest of the time up until supper telling them a quick version of his life story, again without mentioning magic, before they too gave a summary of theirs and tales of life in camp. Harry was surprised to find how many of them had been abused like he had been by the Dursleys, simply for who or rather what they were. They also warned Harry that he would be likely to suffer some 'initiation test' from the Ares cabin and Luke advised him to take it like a man otherwise he would lose any chance of gaining respect among the other campers.

Just as they were finishing a horn sounded in the distance.

"Fall in, eleven!" Luke yelled.

At that the whole cabin filled out into the yard, Harry copying them. There they lined up in order, those who were of Hermes first and then the undetermined. Harry was right at the end because he was the unclaimed person who had been here for the shortest. The only other unclaimed people where the four boys as well as two girls, all of whom had been at the camp for some time. After all the cabins had filled out they proceeded to march up to the hill.

As they marched Harry took time to examine the members of each of the other cabins. The Ares cabin was the largest in terms of numbers of the other cabins, with around eighteen people in total. They were led by a girl who reminded Harry of Pansy Parkinson, admittedly slightly prettier although certainly not beautiful. After them in terms of size came the Apollo cabin with around fifteen then the Aphrodite and the Athena cabins both of whom had around twelve occupants. Of the other cabins Hephaestus' had four, Demeter's had eight, Dionysus' had two.

On the route up to the mess hall we were joined by some satyrs, naiads and wood nymphs all of which Harry tried to look at closer because they were all considered as myths and superstition in the wizarding world yet here they were.

The continuing marching up the hill to the mess hall.

There was a huge fire in the middle, around half the size of Harry's room back at the cabin. All the cabins had their own table, though of course half of them were empty. Harry caught sight of Annabeth sitting on one of the tables which people who he could tell her related to her. She nodded when she saw him looking at her. Harry smiled, his status had been upgraded from totally useless to a minor player. The Ares crowd who were sitting behind Harry seemed particularly rowdy.

Everyone fell silent as Chiron got onto the platform and raised his glass.

"To the gods!"

Everyone else raised their own glasses "The gods!"

Food was brought in by nymphs and everyone filled their plates although their glass remained.

"Say whatever you want and the glass will fill itself with it" Luke told him.

Harry concentrated on the glass, "firewhisky!" He frowned as the glass remained empty.

"If it's non-alcoholic, of course!" Luke amended.

Harry filled his glass with Butterbeer instead. He took a sip, it was passable but nothing quite on the same level as Madame Rosmerta's. Both of the twins who were sitting to Harry's left looked at it curiously but made no attempt to ask what it was.

At that moment everyone stood up and lined up in front of the brazier. Harry was behind the older of the Stroll brothers, Travis, and asked what was going on.

"Burnt offerings to the gods. They like the smell!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at the this and copied everyone else, offering his best piece of meat to the fire with a prayer.

_To whoever you are, please accept this and claim me._

As an afterthought he pushed his second best piece into the fire as a thanks to Hermes for his hospitality, an action that earned him some respect among Hermes' own children apart from Luke who shook his head and told him not to bother. The rest of the food was good, not quite as good as Hogwarts or indeed Kreacher's new improved cooking, but certainly better than anything he had ever had at the Dursley's.

After the meal all the campers headed down to the amphitheatre and the woods surrounding it where there was a bonfire and a sing-along. Another conch sounded the curfew and so everyone headed back to the cabins. As Harry returned he lost the rest of Hermes' cabin and found himself face-to-face with the girl who reminded him of Pansy Parkinson and another son of Ares.

"So you're the new runt?" she asked, looking gleefully at Harry.

Harry nodded cautiously, he knew that expression it was the type normally worn by Bellatrix Lestrange and just screamed pain.

"I'm Clarissa daughter of Ares, that's Sherman, he's my half-brother, another son of Ares," she said motioning to her companion, who reminded Harry of Goyle. "We've got an initiation ceremony for newbies!"

Harry started to back away, "you know I think I'll pass on that, though thanks for offering!"

Sherman charged at Harry, who thinking quickly ducked in time for the massive fist to just miss his head. Realising that he only had the advance of surprise, Harry drove his fist into the guy's stomach, it felt like hitting a brick wall but it worked. As he doubled over winded, Harry brought his knee up smashing it into the guy's nose, flooring him.

Clarissa watched in shock as her half-brother was floored before letting out a war cry she charged at time. This time Harry was ready and stooping down, he seized a handful of dirt and threw it in her eyes. With his opponent blinded Harry slipped behind her and pressed his knife against her throat.

"Now might I suggest you say I passed this little ceremony and I don't cut your throat, how does that sound?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment before spitting at the ground.

"Fine! You passed!"

Harry looked up at the sound of clapping. Luke was standing just up the path and he was smiling.

"Not bad, Harry, not bad. Come on, better get you back to the cabin, I sure the others will want to hear about this!"

He was right. Harry quickly became a favourite of the Hermes' cabin when news of his victory spread. The talk that night was about Harry's possible parent. Connor said that it was clearly Ares because of his military skill but Travis rubbished that saying he hadn't won by skill but by trickery. That lead the two into an argument, which was usual according to Luke they couldn't keep from each other's throats even if they were brothers and best of friends. Travis' best guess was Hermes or Athena, but then Luke pointed out he didn't have the features for either. One of the younger ones piping up suggested Zeus, Poseidon or even Hades, but was quickly hushed up for fear of anyone overhearing.

That night as he went to sleep, Harry just wished that he knew whoever this person was who was his godly parent that he or she would reveal himself.

**AN: ****I followed the film version of the cabins simply because I cannot imagine the gods would allow their offspring to live in huts. Whilst they might not care for their children they would act like some rich parents do; provide live-space and money for them but apart from that just ignore them. **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Next morning as Harry woke up he was surprised to find something on the small cabinet next to his bed. Putting on his glasses and pulling the curtains open to let in the light Harry saw his minotaur horn. But it was different, someone had hollowed it out into one of those drinking horns that Harry had seen in a museum when on a school trip. Beautiful silver legs had been attached near the bottom and around the rim, in a band of silver, was an image of a scene of Harry astride a dead minotaur. Noticing a note under it Harry seized it.

_Not bad, kid, not bad._

_Father  
_

No name. Yet somehow that didn't matter to Harry, his father was watching him. He was sure it was his father not his mother from the note and the gift, it just seemed the sort of thing that a father might write and give. He didn't know how long he stayed there just staring at the note and the gift, but soon Luke came in to wake him up.

"Hi, Harry you up," he said, before he spotted the drinking horn, "what's that?"

"It's the horn of the minotaur but it's been changed into a drinking horn. I found it when I woke up." Harry replied.

Luke nodded, now understanding. "Yeh it will be from your father or mother. They do that; take things you offered them then change them into something and give them back. I sacrificed my father a pair of my favourite converses and he sent them back with wings attached. Doesn't stop me hating the guy though."

"Converses?" Harry asked amused.

Luke smiled, "yeh I was younger and had already sacrificed all the normal things that people sacrifice and he still didn't notice me, so I decided to be cheeky and sacrificed him my converses. Chiron and the old Hermes councillor weren't too impressed although the gift was pretty cool."

Harry laughed but disturbed by Luke's earlier declaration of hatred. When he asked why Luke shrugged.

"He never visits, he doesn't care and his gift was probably only because he felt slightly guilty about it. Our parents really don't care about our existence to them we are only slightly better than normal mortals until they have a use for us. Once we have done it they go back to ignoring us!" he said bitterly.

Not quite sure how to reply to that Harry shifted slightly. Noticing his discomfort Luke smiled "come on, you got a big day of training ahead of you."

He was right as well. The morning was spent working on Ancient Greek with one of the children of Athena who seemed to be in charge of all teaching, although fortunately it wasn't Annabeth as Harry wasn't sure he could stand being made a fool of again in front of her. These sessions did not go well, from what Luke had told him Harry was supposed to find this quite easy but he wasn't. It was easier than learning a completely new language for sure, certainly easier than when he had tried to learn French before Hogwarts but it still left as if he was learning something new rather than relearning it like it was supposed to be.

Fortunately the afternoon was not also spent indoors, pouring over books but rather instead outside in the sunshine, rotating through various outdoor activities. Harry dearly wished that Hogwarts had the same charms as the Camp did to control the weather it would make Quidditch matches, practices and the cold Scottish winters so much better. Although of course they would have to let in some of the snow, otherwise how would they be able to have fun bewitching snowballs to throw themselves at each other.

Straight after lunch Harry had a session on archery with Chiron, in this it seemed he was better than average, yet not good enough to be a son of Apollo. It was the same with running, good enough to be better than most yet still not outstanding. Then it came to wrestling where Harry, who could be called scrawny at best, was well and truly flattened by everyone. Harry knew that people, including Chiron, were watching him trying to work out who his father was but so far all he seemed to be doing was confusing them more. Luke suggested that perhaps he was the son of Hermes, just without his father's features, although when Harry asked if that were possible he admitted it almost never happened, a God's genes seemed to be dominant.

Just before supper Harry received his first sword fighting lesson, it went bad to say the least. The swords all felt too heavy for him, even the short sword he was currently using. Harry was quite frankly hopeless when it came to fighting with swords. He was training with Luke and the rest of Hermes' cabin, unfortunately as all the other members of the cabin had been at the camp for some time they were all reasonably proficient with a blade which result in Harry losing almost of his fights even the ones with the twelve year olds. To make matters worse Luke decided to use him as a volunteer partner to show the others.

To say that Luke was a gentle teacher would be telling a lie, Harry ended up on his arse several times within the first ten minutes as Luke demonstrated various blocks, swipes and lunges. It hurt his pride slightly that he was being humiliated in front of the large crowd, many people had gathered to see how good he was as he had managed to take out two of the best fighters the Ares' cabin. Currently they were laughing at him as he got disarmed again.

In the centre of the crowd he could see Clarissa laughing and cheering every time that Harry went down. Annabeth was also there, frowning at his weakness and Harry hated it, he hated being seen as weak because if he was weak then he could not defend his friends. Clarissa was giggling gleefully as she leant against one of the wooden supports of the arena, laughing outright as Luke's sword knocked the wind out of Harry's lungs before the pommel of the blade connected with his head, causing him to taste the dust for what seemed like the hundredth time already this day. It was after one particularly bruising encounter as Harry wiped the blood and sand off his face that he say her shout out.

"Runt, why don't you give up? No one wants you, your parents must be ashamed of your weakness!"

Fury coursed through him. He didn't know which it was the fact that she had used a word that Dudley was so fond of or the mention of his parents but either way it was sent him mad with anger. He pulled himself to his feet and feeling the rage trying to burst his way through his body. His instincts began to take charge, his conscious fading into the background as he allowed some hidden part of him to take charge.

He watched, seeming from afar. A flick from his hand sent his knife sliding out of its sheath and into his hand, as he spun on the spot raising his arm up in an arc as he did so. It felt like something he had done hundreds, thousands even, of times. The blade slipped from his palm, his fingers guiding it along the path he wished it to take.

Some sixth sense warned him of something from behind him. Feeling completely in control as he had never felt during the whole training session, Harry swayed backwards allowing Luke's blade to whistle as it swept over his head touching not a single hair on Harry's head.

Even as he swayed he never once lost sight of his knife as it span through the air, narrowly avoiding the other campers between himself and Clarissa. Just as Luke's blade passed over his head Harry saw his knife impact upon the frozen figure of the Ares' Camper. It hit her in the shoulder, piercing her clothing and armour without cutting a smallest bit of her skin and pinning her to the wooden support. Her screeches and shrieks could be heard from across the camp.

Various other members of the Ares' cabin were running for their weapons, Chiron Harry could see had drawn his bow and had an arrow notched. He, at least, had seen that Harry had not wounded Clarissa and so had restrained from intervening but at the moment it seemed as if everyone else thought she was dead. She was making a good show of it as well from the looks of it.

In the arena Luke seemed to be sure that Harry had just murdered Clarissa in front of him because his face became grim and he approached on Harry. His earlier swing had obviously been meant to try and prevent Harry from throwing the knife not to seriously hurt him, now however Harry wasn't so sure.

Luke's attacks were constant as he pressed relentlessly on the attack. Avoiding blow after blow by ducking and weaving Harry was forced backwards to the corner of the arena. Once there he saw several of the Ares' boys had returned with their weapons but were being held back by Chiron who was watching Harry with a scrutinising expression. Luke however continued to advance, although he didn't look happy doing so.

Harry was trapped now there was nowhere else that he could retreat to. Suddenly he felt something on his fingertips and looked down, there was a little tongue of fire that flickered there as though it were about to go out. Luke also noticed it and paused his attack.

Stretching his fingers, Harry made the little flame dance from one finger to the other by now totally ignoring everything else as he watched entranced by its beauty. Deciding to experiment, Harry imagined the flame growing hotter and hotter. At first he could feel nothing but soon he felt the very air around his hands and fingers heat up and although Harry could feel no heat through his fingers, he knew the small fire was now at a temperature that it would sear a man's flesh from his bones. Experimenting again, Harry imagined it growing larger until it was the size of an apple and watched in wonder as the fire grew into a small fireball in his palm.

As if imagining the possible danger of the fireball, Luke suddenly attacked. His sword swung high at Harry's neck as he pushed all his might into the blow. Harry's eyes widen as he saw the approaching threat and he brought up his arms to stave off the blow. He could not back away pressed against the wall as he was, It would not be enough he knew, Luke's sword would shear through his arms before carrying on to his neck. He closed his eyes.

A clang sounded and Harry opened his eyes in amazement to see Luke's sword rebounding and bouncing back. Harry's fireball had grown into a fiery blade which even as he gripped its burning handle refused to burn his hand. Luke stepped back in shock as the unarmed Harry was now armed with a blade of fire. Swinging it Harry watched as the blade moved, the very air around it seemed to superheat it a fraction of a second as the blade swung.

Harry looked up at Luke and grinned before pressing forward into the attack. In comparison to the rest of the swords Harry had fought with the very lightness of his firesword allowed his attacks to flow with a speed and a fluidity that left Luke stumbling back as Harry drove forward. Blow after blow he deflected with ease and then blow after blow he landed back upon Luke's blade.

After a while Luke began to counter-attack back and soon there was a proper fight between the two in the centre of the arena. Neither giving way, neither gaining any advantage. Chiron was still preventing anyone from intervening but in part he had no need to, too many of the campers were in shock from the change in Harry, he had gone from totally useless with the sword to being able to counter Luke, the best swordsman in the camp, within a couple of minutes.

At last Luke over reached with one of his lunges. His blade slipped between Harry's arm and his side, which Harry locked swiftly together trapping the blade between them. Then spinning his whole body Harry wrenched the blade from Luke's grip and brought his sword up to meet with Luke's chest. He smirked.

There was silence among the campers who had been watching the match. Harry could see Chiron considering him with interest, whilst many of the campers looked ready to intervene should Harry make any move that they might take for an attempt to kill. Luke wore a look of horror and resignation on his face as if he recognised that these would be last few moments. Harry smirked.

"Dead."

Luke looked confused, probably wondering why he wasn't before he turned his head round to look for Clarissa.

"She's not dead," Harry said, breathing deeply now the adrenaline was leaving his body, "I aimed to pin her to the post and succeeded, thankfully!"

Luke paled again in horror as he realised that he could have almost killed Harry on the presumption that he was about to go berserk and kill everyone in the camp. He turned round to look at Chiron who simply raised his eyebrows, before turning back to Harry.

"Good throw!" was all he was able to say before he walked off.

Harry made to follow him but was soon swamped with people congratulating him and apologising for thinking that he had killed. Hephaestus's cabin members in particular were thronging around him, as well as the rest of the Hermes' cabin. Clarissa's siblings simply glowered off to the side. Harry remembering the power of the sheath, mentally ordered the knife to return to its holder. It wretched itself from the post and flew straight into its sheath. By the time that Harry had been able to make his way out of the crowd Luke had vanished. It was then that Annabeth came up to him.

"I must apologise for my earlier treatment of you. After the snake I thought you were weak and so decided to ignore you. At first I put the minotaur down to luck and now I see that it was through skill that you were able to defeat it and so I must apologise," she said, not looking happy with her apology.

Harry cocked his head to the side, "you really hate weakness don't you!"

Annabeth nodded, "all I have ever done here is train, train to improve, to be able to cope with anything I might come across in life. In coming to the camp I failed a friend because I was weak and so I don't like being too friendly with someone else in case it happens again or they fail me, I don't think I could cope with either situation."

"Thalia?" Harry guessed.

Annabeth nodded and Harry couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her, he had felt the same over Sirius. He had spent nights wondering whether he had trained more, paid more attention in classes would he have been able to prevent what had happened. Hermione had called it Survivors Complex, where the survivor feels guilty because they lived when another did not.

"It wasn't your fault. She gave herself so that you and Luke could live, I am sure that she would not want you to be hostile to everyone just because of her." Harry comforted the upset girl, slightly worried he had overdone it.

"What would you know about it?" she responded, before immediately apologising for her rudeness.

Harry smiled, all these clever girls were the same; the similarities between Hermione and Annabeth were almost uncanny.

"I felt the same thing once," Harry said, "I got over it but it took some time and some help."

Annabeth smiled and thanked him before Harry remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Luke went towards the woods, if you're looking for him." Annabeth said noticing the change in Harry's focus.

Harry nodded and murmured his thanks heading off in the direction of that line of trees when Clarissa blocked his way. She looked absolutely furious and Harry could see the hole that his knife had made in her shirt.

"It's capture the flag tomorrow, and your arse is mine!" she hissed, anger rolling off her like a cloud in a storm, "I will pulverise you and then feed your remains to the crows."

Harry shrugged her off and pushed passed her although as he went to the woods he could feel the hot heat of the her death stare on the back of his head. He would have to ask Luke to mind his back during the game otherwise there wouldn't be much left of him.

Finally reaching the treeline Harry made his way through the woods and found Luke sitting at the each of the small creek, looking across it and occasionally throwing a stone. He waited for a couple of moments for Luke to give any sign that he had noticed that Harry was there but when he didn't get one he made his way across and sat down next to him.

"I almost killed you there, I wanted to so much," Luke said, not looking up.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I hated my life before this camp," Luke said, looking around at the close foliage that surrounded them, "loathed it. My mum, well she went off the rails really. When I came to the camp in a way I found that I could cope, I could cope with the fact that my father was a bastard who couldn't give a shit about me and I could cope with the fact that I wasn't normal."

Harry was silent, he knew the feeling – he felt the same at Hogwarts; the Dursleys, his life before school, his parents' death and the whole problem with Voldemort. Whilst at school he felt like he could deal with them, that they didn't really matter or weren't of the same importance as mucking around with his friends, playing quidditch and learning half-heartedly in lessons. When he was at the Dursleys' his problems engulfed him and he was left feeling broody and angry.

"When I saw you 'kill' Clarissa," Luke continued, "I know the camp would collapse into chaos, the only way it could be prevented was for you to die. Even then it wouldn't be the same as it was before, not with a camper having killed another on camp."

Harry nodded and settled down. This whole fiasco reminded him so much of the Chamber of Secrets incidents both in his and in Voldemort's time. Like Luke, Voldemort had been desperate to do something to keep the school open, going to the lengths of framing Hagrid. He had done much the same thing by throwing himself into the Chamber itself to confront the Heir. To some he had gone down because it was Ginny who was trapped there but that was only part of Harry's motivation, the rest was to prevent himself from being forced to return to the Dursleys.

"I'm sorry" Luke said.

Harry smiled and gripped Luke's shoulder comfortingly. "Come on we better go back to camp!"

Luke waited for a moment before getting to his feet, stopping for a moment to look out over the creek. Harry watched him doing this and couldn't help but wondering whether that would be him in a couple of years; bitter, at odds with his father and angry with his lot in life.

A sound behind them startled them, but when they turned around they saw it was just one of the Apollo campers.

"Chiron and Mr D want to see you both up at the Big House," he said, before disappearing.

Harry and Luke exchanged a look before following the other camper in the direction of the camp and the difficult discussion that was about to begin. Once he was sure the other camper was out of hearing range Luke turned to Harry.

"Harry, you need to be careful what you say now. There are only three gods that are associated with fire; Hephaestus, Hestia and the titan Cronus. Hephaestus would not send a weapon of fire but one of steel instead, Hestia is one of the Virgin Goddesses and would not use fire in that way, that leaves only Cronus and if you give a hint that he is your father the Gods would kill you without a second thought."

Harry nodded and promised to be careful, after all he had absolutely no wish to be confronted by an angry Zeus who thought that Harry might be his half- brother. They carried on walking up to the Big House, past the huts and the lake. As they were coming up to the House, Luke glanced at Harry's knife where he was attached to his wrist.

"Have you named your knife yet?" he asked.

Harry blinked in surprise, "people give their weapons names?"

"Of course," Luke replied, "my sword is called Backbiter. Virtually every demi-god names with weapon."

Harry nodded and thought deeply, he wanted it to be something he wouldn't regret later and so it had to be good. After discarding a handful of names, Harry smiled as he remembered the passage he had been reading in his morning lessons.

"Morpheus, I will call it Morpheus," Harry said, smiling as he tested the name.

Luke looked at the blade, "Morpheus, God of Sleep. Appropriate."

They stepped onto the veranda of the Big House and waited there for a couple of minutes, Luke humming a tune whilst Harry looked over at the view. The satyr who acted as Mr D's secretary came out and told them that they would be shown in soon.

Luke came over to where Harry was standing, "Harry I would like to say thanks for coming after me and listening to me. Most people get angry when I talk poorly of the gods but you didn't and so thanks for that, I needed to get it all off my chest."

Harry smiled at him, "Luke you have helped me so much since coming to the camps so thanks for that. As for what happened in the arena, it's ok I understand."

Luke grinned back and held out his arms, "friends?"

"Best friends!" Harry laughed as he gripped it.

After another couple of minutes waiting Harry grew bored of the view and so turned and browsed the posters and billboards that were on the veranda wall. One particularly large one drew his attention.

"What's that?" Harry asked, directing Luke's attention towards a board on the wall with a load of photographs on it.

"That's the Wall of Campers, it has the photographs of all the campers currently enrolled at the camp on it. We need to get a picture of you done, I had forgotten about that." Luke explained.

Harry moved a little closer to get a better look. The board was divided up into the cabins with each of the cabin counsellors at the top. Luke's picture was the first he found and he was surprised to see it was one of Luke without his scar and so must have been taken before his quest. Scanning the board Harry saw faces he recognised; Annabeth, Clarissa, the boy who looked like Goyle, various members of Hermes' cabin and one other that Harry knew very well, one that he saw time and time again in his nightmares.

"Cedric," he murmured under his breath, gazing at the face that he had last seen alive in that graveyard on the night of the Third Task.

Luke looked surprised.

"Cedric Diggory?" he asked, "you know him?"

Harry nodded, "yeah, he and I went to the same school."

"You wouldn't happen to know where he is?" Luke asked.

"Dead!" Harry said bluntly, "murdered, I was there when it happened."

Luke looked at him in horror, "murdered? But Ced was one of the nicest guys I know."

Harry nodded in agreement, whatever you could say about Cedric you could not deny that. Even some of the Slytherins had admitted it, although the way they said it you could imagine that it was a fault rather than a strength.

Luke looked really hit by the news of Cedric's death, Harry presumed they were relatively close. He had collapsed to the ground and lay there, gazing at the photo. Harry could see that his eyes were watering slightly.

"Was it a monster?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, "a mass murderer who targets students and former students of our school."

It wasn't too much of a lie because most of Voldemort's victims that were wizards had gone to or were at Hogwarts.

"He was one of the few who was here when I first came here," Luke said, looking up at the image of the friend that he would never see again, "he only ever stayed for the summer and I always looked forward to when he was here. He was one of the first to console me after my failure of a quest and always controlled my rants about my father."

"When did he die?" the voice that left his throat had turned slightly rasping and rough.

"A year ago," Harry said, "at the end of the year. It was a school competition that went wrong when the murderer appeared. I'm sorry!"

Luke nodded, "it's alright, I am sure there was nothing you could have done. What happened to the body?"

Harry paused for a moment trying to remember. "His parents took it, I think!"

"His father and his step-mother," Luke said bitterly.

"He didn't like his step-mother?" Harry asked, guessing from the tone of Luke's reply.

"Hated her, she treated him like dirt," he smiled as if remembering something, "he put up with her though. She made his father happy and that was enough for him. Typically Cedric, always thinking of other people first."

"I met his father," Harry said, "who was his mother?"

"Aphrodite," Luke said.

Harry didn't feel as bad now about the fact that Cedric had beaten him to Cho, though something in seemed to have decided that Cedric had cheated. He wondered whether Cedric had known that Harry was a half-blood and if he had why hadn't he told him.

"If he came every summer, how come you didn't know that something was wrong?" Harry asked.

Luke smiled grimly, "we did. His father had long threatened Ced that he would not be able to go camp anymore, partly because of his new wife's urgings. We thought he had simply carried through with his threat. We never thought that he was dead, he was just going to school not on a quest or anything."

Luke fell silent for a moment, "he was a good guy who was always there if you need something or wanted to talk to him in private."

After a couple more moments of silence, Harry decided that he ought to add his own tribute, "he was a good friend and a true Hufflepuff!"

Luke frowned, trying to work out if that was an insult against his dead friend, "Hufflepuff?"

"One of the houses at my school, they are chosen according to personalities" Harry explained, "Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty and their hard work."

"Certainly sounds like Ced," Luke said, his face still pale. "What are the others?"

"Ravenclaw are the clever and academically minded people, Slytherin are the cunning and ambitious ones whilst Gryffindors are brave and noble."

"I am guessing you are a Slytherin?" Luke said, smiling slightly although from the look on his face it was painful.

Harry smiled slightly, "nope a Gryffindor!"

"What! When have you ever done anything brave and noble, you practically ran away from the snake."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "and the minotaur?"

Luke struggled for an answer for a moment, "that wasn't bravery, that was pure stupidity!"

The so-called Gryffindor mock glared his companion, causing them both to chuckle with laughter. Laughter which they both quickly stopped as they remembered what they had both found out they stopped.

Luke sighed, "better go and get it over with!"

He turned around and started walking away from the board. Harry paused to take one more look at another person apart from Sirius that he had failed by allowing them to die before joying to catch up with him.

"Where you going? To Aphrodite's cabin?" he asked grimly.

Luke nodded, "someone needs to tell them to sow a shroud."

"A what?" Harry asked confused.

"A shroud," Luke said, "it's custom for the cabin of a camper to sow a burial shroud whenever a camper leaves the camp to go on a quest. When he returns it is burnt, if he is alive, or used for his funeral, if he died during the quest."

Harry nodded before remembering the meeting they were supposed to be having. "Luke shouldn't we tell Mr D and Chiron first, we are supposed to be meeting with them anyway and as we are up here we might as well tell them."

Luke looked conflicted, "his siblings ought to be the first to know, although you are right there is no point going all the way down there to have to come right back again."

They both turned back towards the Big House and knocked on Mr D's study door.

**AN: A slightly shorter chapter than normal because I want to keep Harry's meeting in one piece and otherwise I would be forced to split it. I am not particularly happy with this one as it is most certainly clumsy but have put it up anyway.**

**T.T. Horn**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Come in!" came a muffled reply from within.

Harry looked at Luke before opening the door and stepping in, he looked around. Mr D was standing next to the window looking out whilst Chiron stood next to the desk which was situated slightly to the left of the door.

"I have called you here because Chiron thinks that I need to talk to you about what happened this evening," Mr D began.

At this point Luke interrupted, "Mr D there is something that you should know…"

"I was speaking," Mr D glared at Luke, "as I was saying…."

Chiron however sensed that something was wrong, "what is it Luke?" he asked.

"It's Cedric, sir, he's dead!"

That caught both their attention. Mr D groaned, Harry guessed it was because he hated it when a demi-god died on him as he would be the automatic target for their parent. Chiron however looked a little more concerned.

"How did he die? When was the last time you spoke to him Luke? His father has been refusing to speak to us for some time!" he asked.

Luke glanced at Harry, "I last spoke to him Christmas two years ago, but Harry goes to the same school as him and was there when he died."

Chiron turned his attention to Harry, who gulped slightly under his intense gaze.

"Back in the UK there is a mass murderer, he calls himself Lord Voldemort. Voldemort targets current or ex-students of mine and Cedric's school for some reason of which I am not sure, although many believe he has a grudge against the Headmaster." Harry said before taking a breath as he considered how much he could get away without telling.

"I escaped him at one point when I was younger after he came after my parents, my mortal parents that is. He took that as a personal affront and has been trying to kill me ever since. There was a competition at school and Cedric and I were competing against two people from other schools when we ran into the murderer. He killed Cedric but I was able to escape through the use of some of my powers."

In this Harry thought he had been very sneaky, his magic was essentially one of his powers although everyone else in the room would assume he was referring to his demi-god powers. Other campers had warned him to avoid lying to Chiron as he was somehow almost always able to see through them. Harry had managed to tell his story without lying, sure they knew he had been missing stuff out but they knew all of what he said was the truth.

"You are being a bit vague," Chiron said.

Harry shrugged, "there are some secrets that I am not allowed to tell and are not mine to tell if I wanted to."

Mr D snorted with annoyance and collapsed down into the chair behind the desk.

Chiron however was still curious, "how was he able to kill Cedric, he was one of the best of Aphrodite's cabin in matters of fighting."

At that Luke snorted and even Mr D raised his eyebrows, clearly both of them did not think highly of the fighting skills of the average members of that cabin.

"He has some powers of his own," Harry explained vaguely, before he remembered something, "sir I realise this is not the best time but I was wondering whether I would be able to return to get ready for school around the last week of August as school begins on 1st September."

"NO!" came the answer from beside Harry.

Chiron, Mr D and Harry looked round to see that it was Luke who had spoken. He seemed to be fairly upset.

"You honestly think that after just telling me that one of my friends has been murdered at your school, I am just going to allow another to go?" Luke asked furiously, "I allowed Cedric to go off to that place and look what happened. The same will happen to you."

Harry started thinking quickly. He needed a good argument as he could see that the two adults seemed to agree with Luke over this matter.

"It won't be like that again. Voldemort was only able to catch us because we weren't looking out for him," he argued, "we thought he had been dead for at least ten years. No one expected him to just pop up again. Now the Headmaster is on the guard against him and the school has a security team so there is very little chance he will be able to break in again."

Mr D looked at Chiron who nodded, "every word of that was the truth or rather what he believes to be the truth."

"You can't send him back there alone, safe as it is, without him being properly trained not with a mass murderer after his blood as well as the monsters," Luke was still arguing his position fiercely.

Mr D seemed to agree but then Chiron spoke up, "perhaps not alone, maybe we could get someone else to go along with Harry so as to keep an eye on him and on him. Maybe Annabeth or one of the Apollo campers."

Luke scoffed, "no I cannot trust those arses to keep themselves from taking after their father and chasing every pretty girl that comes into sight leaving Harry's back open. I am the only one I can trust to do a proper job, so I'm going."

Harry mouthed a thank you to Luke but the other demi-god chose to ignore it in favour of glaring at the wall.

"You will find someone to take your position as Councillor whilst you are away?" Chiron asked.

Luke nodded, "I will ask Travis Stroll to, he will probably succeed me anyway and so he could do with some practice!"

Mr D nodded, "so that's decided. I presume the two of you will be able to inform the Aphrodite cabin?"

They both nodded and then left the room. It was only once they were outside that they realised with a quick mutual sigh of relief that the adults had totally forgotten about the matter which had led to them being summoned in the first place.

*****WOTG*****

Ten minutes later they came up to Cabin 10, the Aphrodite cabin. At several points on the way down people had bothered the two of them, asking for details of what happened with their meeting but Luke shortly told them to mind their own business.

Luke knocked twice on the door and entered without waiting for an answer, Harry following behind. Entering they found the majority of the Aphrodite cabin sitting in a couple of comfy and over stylised looking sofas discussing, from what Harry could over hear, various hair products. One of them, a tall and very beautiful Asian girl, spotted Luke and stood immediately making her way over to him.

"Hi Luke," she said, fluttering her eyelids, "come here to see me, how kind what do you say to me rewarding you properly."

"Not now, Drew," Luke said, looking around, "is Silena here? I need to speak to her about something."

"Right here, Luke," came a voice from their left. "Drew leave them alone. Now!"

They both turned as Drew sulked and sat back down in her seat, huffing indignantly and glaring at her councillor.

"Ahh Silena, there you are. I need to speak to you about something!" Luke said.

She raised her eyebrow, "councillor business, I hope, I do have a boyfriend you remember."

Luke grinned cheekily "for which I am in permanent mourning, but yes that is the reason I am here."

Again the eyebrow raised, "very well, bring your little friend and come in."

"Little?" Harry said indignantly as they followed her into the room, "I'm not little!"

"Ohh I don't know, you are a little bit of a titch!" Luke teased.

"Shut up or I will make you wish I had actually killed you earlier," Harry threatened.

Immediately Luke was at best attention, "of course sir, yes sir!" he paused, "of course, titch."

Harry growled but didn't do anything as they were now in the councillor's room, Harry looked around in interest without being too nosy. It was relatively plain, there were hints that indicated the pervious occupant before Silena was a lot more lavish but there were relatively few posters up.

"So what do you want to speak about?" Silena asked, taking a seat upon her bed and gesturing the other two to sit on a couch opposite.

"It's about Cedric," Luke began, "you know how he hasn't been in touch for some time."

Silena nodded, clearly worried, "something has happened to him hasn't it?"

Luke nodded, "he's dead, killed by a mass murderer in Britain just over a year ago. I'm sorry, I know you and he got on really well."

Silena seemed to be a state of shock because she whispered as if speaking to herself, "I should have known that something was wrong, but I choose not to do anything thinking it was his father playing up again." She dried the tears that were running down her face, "how did you find out?"

"I told him," Harry said, "I go to the same school as Cedric did and was there when he was murdered."

"Was the foul bastard who took Ced from us caught?" Silena asked, sniffling slightly.

Harry shook his head, "no I'm sorry, they are hunting for him at the moment but it looks unlikely that they are going to capture him anytime soon. Many people are too afraid to even approach him!"

"How many people like Ced has he murdered?" she questioned.

"Around a hundred or so, I think," Harry said without thinking before his eyes widen as he saw Luke's reaction.

Luke looked pissed, "you forgot to mention that!"

"Yer sorry about that," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I did want to go back to school and I knew you wouldn't let if I did."

Silena looked confused, "how come we haven't heard of him then, a mass murderer of that league would have his name known throughout the world."

"There's a whole government department with instructions to hush it up as much as possible," Harry said, "they manage to make a fairly good job of it."

"Why would they want to hush it up?" Luke asked curious.

Harry looked at him, "why would politicians want the public to know there is a mass murderer on the loose and they are unable to stop him? I don't know, maybe they want to stay in office, perhaps."

"Alright, alright no need to get snarky," Luke grumbled.

"If you two are finished now, perhaps you could leave so my sisters and I can prepare Ced's shroud," Silena requested politely.

They both nodded and left the cabin, ignoring the glances from the other children of Aphrodite as they left. A couple of seconds after they left they heard the sounds of shrieks and wails of grief as the sad news was relayed to the rest of the cabin.

*****WOTG*****

Supper was a sparse affair, the food was not what it normally was and the lively Aphrodite's cabin was not present, they were busy making their half-siblings burial cloth. The date for the burning was set for the Sunday, in three days' time because Chiron did not want to do it straight after the Capture the Flag for fear of ruining the solemn occasion.

That night after everyone else had gone to bed, Harry recovered a sock from underneath his bed and went through to Luke's room. Knocking on the door he was told to enter.

"Harry," Luke said when he saw him, "need help with anything?"

"This," Harry said, removing the sock from the top of the whisky bottle he had bought in the airport, "I thought it might be appropriate to salute Cedric in style!"

Luke nodded, clearly choking up before he laughed hollowly, "I would ask how you got this into camp but I know you would never tell me."

Harry filled up two shot glasses with the drink and slid one over to Luke, before raising his glass.

"To Cedric!"

*****WOTG*****

Harry groaned as he awoke, finding himself collapsed against a wall. Staggering to his feet Harry tripped over a chair that was on the ground and landed on the floor again with a solid thump. Grabbing hold of the table Harry was able to pull himself again to his feet and look around with bleary eyes, which alighted on the figure of Luke lying passed out on the floor on the other side of the room in a pile of his own vomit. Drawing his wand Harry vanished the offending material before awakening his fellow sufferer.

As Luke was starting to get to his feet, someone banged hard on the door and hollowed out.

"Luke you awake? Normally you would have been up an hour ago, breakfast is in five minutes!"

Both teens winced as they clutched their aching heads, heads made worse by the racket. Glancing at each other they both nodded to the door and walked out, barely able to stand properly. The face of the Stoll twins upon seeing them was one of absolute glee and they immediately began singing pop songs at the top of their voice, until Luke threatened that he would be sending them alone to face the other cabins.

As he threatened this both Harry and he came to a realisation and groaned, they would both be extremely hung over for the capture the flag and that was not the ideal state to be in when one of the opposing team was aiming to try and kill, or at the very least seriously maim, you.

Breakfast was interesting, various members of the camp looked interested at why two members of the Hermes cabin seemed in such a state. It was only rarely that someone was able to smuggle alcohol into the camp and as such many of the other campers were really quite curious. Harry and Luke simply ignored any questions, clutching their mugs of coffee to their chests as they rocked from side to side. The Stoll brother continued their antic and as a result were relegated to guarding the flag by Luke, which they spent the rest of the morning moaning about.

Luke had spent most of the last night before their small drinking session recruiting volunteers to come from other cabins to help face the combined might of the Ares and Athena cabins. Unsurprisingly not many people were that willing to help with Hermes cabin with what most people saw as a suicide mission. Luke however had called in a couple of favours in the Apollo cabin from when he had fought for them and had secured three of their best archers as well as all four of Hephaestus' children whom one of Harry's fellow Cabin 11 mates mentioned owed Clarissa a debt of pain. He also mentioned that they had blackmailed both of Dionysus' sons to join in on their side as well.

Harry was told to assemble behind the stables with all their team two hours after breakfast, just after the end of his morning lessons. Luke, as counsellor of the Hermes' cabin, was quickly chosen as the general for this particular skirmish. He said they would be the blue team as whatever team the Ares cabin was on traditional were the reds. He handed out blue tunics and helmets with blue crests of them to each of the people on the team. Harry chose to forgo the helmet in favour of a blue head band for better vision.

After he had laid out the plan of attack, he order the rest of the blue team to warm up and do stretches whilst calling Harry to him.

"Whilst everyone else warms up, you and me are going to see if we can get some weapons you can actually fight with," he said.

Harry was fine with his knife but Luke wanted him to have something else as well. The armoury was large, probably around the same size as the Gryffindor common room back at Hogwarts, with rows of spears, swords and weapons that Harry did not even know what they were.

"I reckoned we should kit you up a little more, Morpheus will not be enough on its own and you said you weren't sure about your flame sword thing. Have a look around and choose something," Luke said, leaning back on one of the racks of spears.

Harry felt a little silly walking round picking up different weapons and trying them. He soon realised that he was never going to get a sword he liked, and so started having a look at the more unconventional weaponry. He found a small set of throwing blades which didn't feel too bad and so he picked them. As he was doing so he noticed something tucked away in a corner. Going over he pulled it out from the bunch of spears in which it was hidden.

It was a staff. Just taller than he was with several grips at different point down its length, Harry liked. He twirled it experimentally in his hands, before nodding satisfied at Luke, who raised his eyebrows.

"A stave, well if that's what you what!"

As they went back Luke explained the basic battle plan.

"We are against the strategist so we are going to play the bluff and the tactic is just to charge down the middle and seize the flag. They won't be expecting that. You stay close to me, Harry, I know Clarisse is going be after you and I would rather she didn't kill you!"

As they passed the Ares cabin on the way to lunch, Harry could hear the loud music blasting through the walls. Clear some people were getting seriously mentally prepared for the carnage that the afternoon games would bring. Lunch was a lively affair, with everyone being as loud as they discussed the prospects of each time and placed bets on who would be spending time in the hospital bay.

When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded and everyone fell silent. It was time for the sport to begin.

Campers yelled and cheered as Clarisse and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a boar's head. Luke murmured to Harry that there had been a massive fight between the Athena and Ares cabins about whose banner would be used as the red teams. Harry, Luke and Travis Stoll were the ones who went for the Hermes cabin entering the pavilion from the opposite side, baring the Hermes cabin banner, which was an identical size to the Ares one, but silver, with a huge caduceus right in the middle of it.

Harry shouted over the noise to Luke "What happens when one cabin captures the banner of another, what do you do— repaint the flag?"

Luke grinned. "You'll see when we take that one!" he pointed at the Ares banner.

Harry laughed, "Whose side is everyone else on?"

Just as he said this the teams were announced. Ares had made an alliance with Athena, Demeter and Aphrodite. Apparently, everyone wanted to be on the winning side as well as getting a bit of the actions and so the Ares had no problem getting support. privileges—shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities—in order to win support.

Hermes had it a little more difficult; nobody wanted to be part of the losing team and so no cabin had officially joined with the Hermes one in facing the combined forces of the two gods of war. Fortunately Luke had been working hard and explained that he had had to trade many privileges—shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities—in order to win support. Because of this as well as his other schemes, the Hermes cabin were only slightly outnumbered.

From what Harry had seen, the Dionysus's kids were actually good athletes, constantly playing one form of sport or other in the volleyball courts. How Luke had been able to blackmail them Harry had absolutely no idea. Hephaestus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly from working in the metal shop all day. Harry could only imagine what a blow from one of their weapons would feel like.

On the other side Demeter's children were ones to watch out for as they were dangerous with nature skills and outdoor stuff. Aphrodite's sons and daughters he wasn't too worried about; they mostly sat out every activity and checked their reflections inthe lake and did their hair and gossiped, much like Lavender and Parvati at Hogwarts. That, of course, left the Ares's and the Athena cabins. The Ares cabin was full of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet whilst the Athena cabin was made up of the smartest, best trained and elite strategists of the whole camp. Both of them were going to be a problem, actually screw a problem a pain. In the arse probably although if Clarisse got her way probably in Harry's internal organs as well.

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble.

"Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal. Harry perked up slightly at the mention of all magical items being allowed, that would most certainly be useful.

Harry and Luke walked down the tables of weapons. There was nothing particularly that Harry wanted or felt he need apart from some basic leather armour.

From the other end of the paviolion Harry heard Annabeth yell, "Red team, forward!"

The various members of Red Team cheered and shook their swords, following her down the path to the south woods. Harry and the rest of blue team yelled taunts at them as they headed off toward the north. Luke dropped back so that he was with Harry.

"Watch Clarisse's spear," he warned. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. You remember the plan?"

Harry looked at Luke like he was an idiot, "Straight up the middle, it's hardly something you're going to forget it's not difficult?"

"Just checking," Luke grinned, "you small guys always seem to forget things easily.

He laughed as Harry threatened to do his head in with one of the Hephaestus boys' huge hammers that they were wielding.

It was a warm, sticky afternoon. Luke and the whole of blue team assembled at a small hill upon which they placed the banner. Luke had chosen the two Stoll brothers to act as the banner guards as they were some of the best fighters Hermes cabin had offered. As well as them a line of scouts had been placed the entire way along the creek so as to get an idea of where the attack might come from. Everyone else though was preparing in the centre for the huge charge up. As those who had been placed on sentry duty disappeared into the trees, everyone else stood there tightening armour straps and checking helmets.

Once he was ready, Luke looked around "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready!" came the enthuastic reply.

Luke pulled on his helmet and beckoned Harry to his side. Far away, the conch horn blew. Already the wood was full of whoops, yells and war cries from the other side and Harry could hear the clanking of metal, kids fighting as the enemy hit the scouts.

"Forward!"

**AN: Next time it's the Capture the Flag and perhaps getting back to London. Hope you like the chapter, next one will be up soon as I like writing actions sequences. Sorry this one is so short but I promise the next one will be longer.**

**A couple of reviews are asking why Harry is keeping his magic a secret and why the gods do not already know about it, the answer for this will be clear later on in the story.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Forward!" Luke shouted.

As one the group of around twenty campers surged forward through the forest, Luke at their head and Harry coming along beside him. Adrenaline was pumping through Harry's body at a rate he almost had never felt before, magic was alright but a magical duel was nothing on hand to hand fighting when it came to the rush that one got.

They burst from the trees surrounding the creek to find some of the Red team attacking the scouts that Luke had arranged to give warning of an attack. As they charged past Harry smashed an Athena camper, who was caught in a fight with one of the scouts, around the back of the head with his staff causing her to lose focus for a moment allowing Harry's team member to overpower her. Nodding his thanks, the camper immediately got himself embroiled in another fight.

Gazelle leaping across the creek they pushed on inwards into enemy territory, thought their numbers were a little diminished from the fight at the creek. Harry and Luke were still very much in the lead as the group continued on inwards. News of their attack must have reached the Red Team leaders for they were met by several of the Ares campers with more coming in from all directions as their leaders pulled men from their flanks to protect the middle. A full scale battle broke out as the other Blue team got involved in single fights, Luke managed to pull Harry away as they broke towards the enemy flag.

Not having gone ten metres from the main melee, Luke was suddenly forced to push Harry down to the ground as a sword came searing over his head, missing it by a couple of millimetres. Pulling himself to his feet Harry had to fight off a viscous assault as he found himself face to face with Sherman, the Ares' camper whose nose he had broken on the night when Clarisse had tried to give him his little welcoming present. Luke seemed embroiled in his own fight with another of the Ares campers, one whose similarity to Crabbe matched Sherman's to Goyle.

He managed to block most of the incoming attacks with his staff before slipped his knife and his wand out of their sheaths. Magic seemed to work less well on demigods because the stunning spell that Harry shot at him did not knock Sherman unconscious, just slowed his movements down a bit. That was enough however for after Sherman's next horizontal slice at Harry's head, he was able to slash twice at the Ares camper's unprotected chest, opening two deep cuts from which the blood poured onto the ground. That too however seemed unable to halt the man for he made another huge swing that would have cleaved Harry's head off had it connected which Harry was forced to roll to avoid. Seeing an opening from the ground, Harry raised his leg and kicked Sherman hard between the legs. The muscular brute groaned slightly and started to topple, finally knocked over when a reducto from Harry struck his arm, blowing away the skin and some of the muscle underneath. The blood loss and the effects of the stunner overwhelmed him and he landed with a smash right onto of Harry's leg trapping it there.

Harry tried to pull himself free but was unable because of the sheer weight on top of him. He looked over to where Luke was finishing off his opponent.

"Luke can you give me a hand," he shouted, "the bastard landed on my foot!"

The other demigod looked around and saw Harry trapped there and rushed over to pull him free. Once he was out Harry had to take in several deep breaths.

"You alright Harry," Luke's asked.

"Yeh!" Harry replied, "I think I might be missing pudding tonight, though!"

Luke laughed, "that's the spirit, come on lets go get ourselves a flag."

Harry paused only to cast a quick obliviate on Sherman, who wasn't sure whether or not the Ares camper had seen anything but didn't want to risk it, after all he would be unlikely to be able to pass it off as a power, not many other demigods had the power to shoot lights out a stick which removed chunks of flesh. Racing off through the forest they came to the clearing in which the Ares' flag was hanging. Only one guard was in sight, the other was absolutely nowhere to be seen. After looking around for a moment to see if they could see her, Luke charged for it taking out the guard. Just as Luke seized the banner from its place on the top of the hill, the second guard appeared from the forest. It was Clarisse.

Knowing that Luke needed to get away with the flag, Harry charged her, dodging from a swing with her spear. The very air seemed to crackle with energy from where the blade passed. Harry didn't know what the fuck was up with that spear but he could see that Luke was right when he told him not to allow it to touch him.

"Luke, take the banner and run!" Harry shouted as he avoided another stab.

It was clear that Clarisse didn't care a toss about the flag, she just wanted to try and hurt Harry as much as possible. As soon as Luke disappeared from sight, Harry grinned predatorily. His wand came down into the palm of his hand and Clarisse was unable to avoid the extra powered stunning spell, which seemed to be powerful enough. Still smiling, Harry conjured some rope and hung Clarisse upside down by her feet from one of the trees on the each of the clearing. Deciding to have a little more fun, taking his knife Harry cut off her pony tail and laid it on the ground with her spear so that she could see if as soon as she woke up. He wouldn't need to worry about her telling on his magic, because she won't have seen anything more than perhaps a slight flash of red before she fell unconscious. He took a deep breath, being forced to cast a stunning spell of that magnitude was tiring and the game still hadn't finished.

Running to catch up with Luke, Harry found him stepping over the unconscious body of a camper.

Seeing Harry there he raised his eyes, "I must say I did think Clarisse might delay you a little longer than!"

Harry scoffed, "Clarissa couldn't slow me down if she tried." He paused for a moment, "attempting to sit on me would probably have been more effective!"

"Jokes later, come on let's get this hideous thing back to our side of the creek!" Luke shouted.

As they approached the creek they saw to their horror Annabeth approaching from the other side of the creek with the Hermes banner. Evidently Connor and Travis had been outmatched and the flag taken from them. Both teams started cheering and urging their respective men forward as they moved to intercept the opponent flag bearer.

Harry glanced at Luke, "you take the banner, I'll stop Annabeth from reaching this side of the creek."

Luke nodded and sprinted towards the other bank. Meanwhile Harry glared at Annabeth, drawing on his power, imagining a fireball leaving his palm and smacking into the ground at her feet. Feeling the familiar heat in his hand, Harry threw up throwing the fireball with all his might before blinking. There was no fireball in his palm, rather a fiery longbow. Fingering the string Harry drew in back slightly and watched in amazement as an arrow of fire appeared on the bow.

Remembering the game Harry looked down the sights at where Annabeth was about to jump across the creek to victory. He aimed at the ground slightly in front of her as he had no wish to serious maim her, she had done nothing too bad against him and besides he rather liked her.

He loosened the arrow and watched as it flew straight and true, striking the ground at her feet. As soon as it hit the ground, it exploded sending a shower of dirt into the air as well as throwing Annabeth back away from the creek.

Everyone stopped what their own personal little fights to look in amazement and what had just happened. A group of Athena campers reacted first and charged up at him across the creek at him. Eyes widening as he spotted this new threat, Harry loosened another arrow into the centre of the group as they crossed. A jet of boiling hot steam was thrown up from where the fire evaporated the water, the campers going down with screams as it scalded their bodies.

The front two however avoided most of it and were able to fight their way up to him. The rest of blue team recovered and were going to stop them when Harry imagined his bow converting into a huge fire spear. At once his weapon reformed and Harry jumped down and met them halfway.

One spear grazed his cheek as the other was held off by the nearest member of blue team. Harry however laughed and using his spear as a paddle sprayed water into his face, water which immediately turned to steam upon touching the spear. Another Athena camper went down scalded. The last one, victorious over Harry's teammate, charged him armed with a sword and a shield but Harry just ducked under the swipe and seized hold of the hand holding the sword and brought his elbow down into the man's neck, knocking his helmet off and sending him to the floor. He was on fire, almost literally.

Annabeth made another attempt to try and cross the creek but again the bow came into action blasting the ground in front of her to pieces. A roar went up from the blue team as Luke finally managed to fight his way through the creek over to the other side, where the blood red banner of the Ares cabin changed to match that of the Hermes cabin. Throwing the banner down into waiting arms of some of the Hermes boys, Luke leapt back across the stream and pulled Harry into a hug.

"That was fucking awesome!" he said, having to raise his voice over the cheers. "Never knew you could change it into a weapon apart from the sword."

"Nor did I," Harry shouted back.

At that moment complete silence fell over the campers as a shadow appeared behind Harry.

"Very good, Mr Potter," came the voice of Chiron from behind him. "Now perhaps you might explain why Clarisse is hanging upside down from a tree with her ponytail sheared off?" he asked with his eyes sparkling.

There was silence for a moment before the entire Blue Team roared with laughter, many of them collapsing into the creek as news of Clarisse's fate was made common knowledge. Many of the Red Team were also restraining their laughter, excluding those other members of the Ares cabin who looked to Harry like some raging bulls. He would have to watch out for them, that twice he had seriously humiliated their cabin and he couldn't imagine their daddy was very impressed.

Luke clapped Harry across the back and he was lifted up into the air along with Luke by the rest of the team and carried back to the Hermes cabin where they deposited their weapons. Once he had done Harry walked through the Luke's room.

"Luke, what's the plan now?" he asked.

"Now, we go to the corner of the woods where there is a camp fire and barbeque after every game," Luke replied, "as the victors, we get to eat first and that means we get the best of the food."

As they left the room they found the whole of the cabin ready to go. Harry ran back to his room and collected his horn on Luke's prompting, he told him that the gods get quite pissed off if their gifts are unused. Then as a cabin they met up with the rest of the blue team, a meeting that involved many thumps on the back for both Luke and Harry by those who hadn't already done so.

One of the Hephaestus boys gave him a broach that they had hurriedly made after the game finished which was so delicately made from gold that Harry hardly believed that the big, buff sons of the God of the Forge were capable of crafting it in such a short space of time. The broach bore the image of a girl having upside down from a tree with a spear lying on the ground before her next to a sheered ponytail. When everyone realised the symbolism they were barely able to restrain their mirth as Harry promised the maker that he would be sure to show it to Clarisse.

As a team they proceeded to the part of the woods that had been set aside for the party. Luke had said there would be a campfire but in Harry's mind a bonfire would be a more accurate description of the huge pile of logs and branches that was at least two metres wide and several metres tall. Food was laid out on the tables and glasses with the same magic as back at the pavilion.

Grabbing some food Harry sat on a table next to look with the rest of Hermes cabin and some of the other members of the Blue team grouped around them. Harry looked at his horn wondering whether it had the same charms as the goblets that everyone else was drinking out of or would he have to ask someone else to pour their drink into it. He decided to test.

"Butterbeer!"

Immediately the horn was filled and Harry raised it up to his lips and took a mouthful. The familiar power and strength of firewhisky seared Harry's throat. He doubled over coughing up the offending liquid, causing many of the Aphrodite girls who had been making provocative gestures at him giggle into their hands, thinking that they had caused it. Everyone else however looked confused, as Harry inspected the horn to see what was in it. As he did so he saw words forming around the inside of the rim.

_This horn shall only ever serve proper drinks._

Harry grinned at Luke, "what do you say to two nights in a row?"

Luke looked at the horn and then back at his own goblet, and swapped them "your dad is a hero among gods!"

The blue team was well and truly drunk by the time the evening had come to an end, leaving a large number of the staff wondering how the alcohol had been smuggled onto the camp. Harry and Luke spent a large portion of the time fending off various members of the Aphrodite cabin who always apparently congregated around the heroes who had done the best in the game.

Harry was currently being mobbed by a group of three or four of them as they muttered suggestive remarks into his ear, allowed their hands to wonder and remarking how well built he was. As delighting as that was, and it really was, Harry was beginning to get a bit uncomfortable with the whole thing, particularly when one of the girls took hold of his hand and started to direct its movement.

"Out of my way," a voice came from the far side of the group of Aphrodite girls. "I need to speak to someone!"

They immediately moved out the way and the girl who was guiding his hand dropped it as Annabeth came through, still wearing her armour from the Capture the Flag. She looked very good and Harry wondered whether all demigods were at least relatively good looking, at that point he caught a glance of Sherman seating glaring at him and he remember the Ares and Hephaestus cabins, both of which were not filled with the most handsome of people by any means.

"Thank you," Harry murmured under his breath as the other girls broke away to go and talk to Luke, who was sitting not far away. Catching Harry's eye he winked suggestively and Harry had to fight to keep down a blush.

"Nice trick with the fire weapons," Annabeth said, "many of my fellow cabin members are covered in blisters at the moment."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "yeh sorry about that, if it was the Ares campers I won't care but apologise to them for me will you?"

Annabeth nodded before taking a sniff at something she smelt in the air.

"You reek of booze," Annabeth observed.

Harry shrugged, he was hardly going to be able to deny that and get away with it, particularly to someone as clever as Annabeth.

"You know I haven't quite worked you out yet," she continued, "and that bothers me. You're so close with Luke and yet you have so many secrets and things that you refused to tell people, even he knows hardly anything about you. Then there is the matter of your strange powers, like for instance where did you find the rope to hang Clarisse from the tree?"

Harry forced a smile, he was caught and she knew it. "Secret!"

She shook her head, exasperated, "and I don't suppose there is any chance of you letting me into the secret is there!" It was a statement, not a question.

Harry shook his head, smiling and she sighed.

"You know next time I might just leave you to your admirers." She said as she walked away.

It was not long before there was another familiar face for Harry to bump into, one he was most certainly glad to see. He was over by the campfire, getting another burger for himself and Luke in return for Luke taking some of the attention of his hands. It was very overwhelming but Harry didn't might it as much as at Hogwarts, here it was because he had fought well and was mildly attractive there it was because he was a celebrity.

"Harry there you are!" came a shout from across the campfire.

Harry spun round and saw Grover standing on the other side. He walked over and thumped the satyr on the back.

"Damn Harry," he complained, "that hurt!"

"You cissy," Harry laughed, "haven't seen you round for some time, how's it going?"

Grover sighed, "not bad, but I'm being sent to a school to keep an eye out for demigods. Mr D said my retrieval of you didn't count because I wasn't sent for you. I'm going to be away from camp for the entire year."

Harry nodded sympathetically, Luke had explained Grover's goal of a searchers' licence and how much it meant to Grover to Harry, and so Harry knew he must have been gutted when he was told he couldn't get.

"Don't worry, I'm away at school until the summer as well so you know we will both be suffering," he said comfortingly.

Grover smiled back, "ok but promise to keep in touch. I want an email or phone call every month, ensuring that I haven't died of boredom or something."

Harry promised before remembering Hogwart's wards and their reaction to electrical items. "I won't be able to email or phone as school bans all electrical items, I'll send letters instead."

Grover looked at Harry in pity, "no electrical items, how old fashioned is your school." He grinned as he remembered something, "You told Luke yet?"

Harry shook his head and the two of them burst out laughing as they imagined Luke's reaction.

"So when do you leave?" Harry asked.

"Early tomorrow morning," Grover replied, "Chiron reckons I need time to settle down and get to grips with the area before the start of term."

"I'll miss you," Harry said, clapping the satyr once more on the shoulder before he disappeared back into the crowd.

The rest of the night continued in much the same way, although as it got later and later the amount of alcohol that Harry, Luke and the Stroll brothers were consuming between increased exponentially, until such a state that none of them were in any fit state to be out of their beds. What's more was that as Harry's inebriated state got worse and worse, the attentions of the girls became more and more welcome until Harry was flirting back quite outrageously. It was around this point that his memory of that night ceased, alcohol had taken total charge.

*****WOTG*****

Harry groaned as he awoke. Twice in a row was not good for his health, nor was it good for his general morning mood. He tried to roll over and get out of bed, when he felt flesh next to him. Harry bolted upright and looked around to see who he was in bed with.

An Asian girl was lying naked in the bed beside him, the covers hiding only the skin below the naval, everything else was visible. He glanced around to see where he was and saw that he most definitely wasn't in his room in the Hermes cabin, the roof and walls of the room he was in were pink and that left Harry with a sneaking suspicion that he was currently in the Aphrodite cabin. He looked back at the girl and recognised her as the girl who had approached Luke as they came to the cabin bearing news of Cedric's death, what was her name?

At that moment the girl in question awoke and stretched sleepy, causing the covers to fall even further down her body. She looked very like Cho, although Harry was forced to admit much more beautiful than Cho was even on her best days. Harry tore his gaze away from her breasts and her body but the girl had already noticed his inspection of her.

"Like it?" she asked, seductively.

Harry nodded for to do anything else would be lying. He wondered how much he had had to drink last night that he couldn't even remember anything from his talk with Grover onwards.

"Pity you won't be enjoying it again," she said abruptly.

Harry looked questioningly at her after this, not that he minded from what he had seen and heard of Drew, that was who she was he remembered, she had seemed like a bit of bitch and so not the kind of person that Harry wanted to be stuck in a relationship with. Besides these were Aphrodite girls, they were notoriously unfaithfully taking after their mother in that regard. Drew, however, looked a little put out by Harry's lack of reaction and so decided to attack.

"Whose Cho?" Drew asked callously.

How the hell does he know about Cho, Harry thought to himself, Cedric clearly didn't mention her because he only started going out with her in Harry's fourth year after the last time they had heard from him so that meant that Harry himself must have told her. He paused for a moment as he considered the similarity between the two women, in terms of looks at least.

"Oh god, I didn't," Harry groaned, he must have been properly plastered.

"Yes," she said coolly, "you did!"

"I'm sorry," and he genuinely was as well though he couldn't help see the funny side as well, "she's just a girl I know at school."

"Evidently," she most certainly was not happy with him, "might I suggest you leave now, Silena will be round in a couple of minutes and I am supposed to be in mourning for my poor departed half-brother."

Harry stood and pulled on his clothes from where they were lying thrown on the floor. Slipping out of the cabin was a little more difficult as people were starting to awake. As he opened the door of the cabin though he saw Annabeth standing in the entrance to the Athena cabin and she raised her eyebrows, to which Harry just shrugged and continued back to the Hermes cabin. It was only when he was halfway there that what had just occurred hit him and a huge grin spread over his face, he had just lost his virginity, even Seamus for all his talk had never gone that far and Harry was looking forward to rubbing that in.

Walking in Harry found himself face-to-face with practically the whole cabin and Luke who was standing there grinning like an idiot. Seeing Harry he immediately put on a serious expression though Harry could tell he didn't mean it.

"Mr Potter, you are supposed to be spending your night in your own bed not elsewhere. Where were you?" he asked imperiously.

"The Aphrodite cabin," Harry admitted grinning.

Luke's expression broke, "those sluts, come on Harry you can do better than that. I had bets on you with Annabeth?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at that and the cabin chuckled, Annabeth was considered almost impossible to get although not for lack of trying from almost every single boy at the camp. General consensus was that she would get with the hero whose presence at camp would allow her to go on her first quest, a person who would instantly become unpopular with many of the boys. At that moment the door to Luke's room opened and a face peered from inside, Harry immediately recognised it as another of the Aphrodite girls.

He raised an eyebrow to Luke, "looks like someone else was entertaining one of those 'sluts' last night, you hypocrite!"

The rest of the cabin was now properly laughing and the Aphrodite girl shut the door quickly in embarrassment as she saw the roomful of boys laughing at her. Luke however looked quite pleased with himself, in a slightly smug sort of way. Clearly this was something he had been aiming at for some time and now that he had achieved the goal he wanted everyone to know.

*****WOTG*****

The lively spirits had not died down by breakfast as the cabin marched up to the pavilion, the Stroll brothers had suggested that Harry take his horn up so they could get a 'man's drink' as they put it. However Harry's head was still aching despite his activities last night and as he had refused to their great disappointment.

Breakfast was a bit weird for as used to Harry was about rumours spreading about him, he was not used to those rumours being concerned about his performance in bed. Drew spent the whole breakfast glaring at the back of his head and that only served to fuel the whispers even more.

As soon as they got back Luke pulled Harry into a hug and led him in to the counsellor's room. The last time Harry had been in here he had not been in a state to take in the surroundings but now he was Harry admired the elaborate set up Luke had installed. Clearly the Hermes counsellor enjoyed a little bit of modern living.

"So who was it?" Luke badgered him, "you seemed to be getting friendly with a number of them after you had a couple of drinks, I never actually saw which one you left with."

"The Asian one," Harry said, "Drew Tanaka, I think her name was."

"So how was it?" Luke asked, "I know from experience Drew is so enthusiastic I imagine it was interesting. Have any special powers when it comes to bed?" He added jokingly.

"No, and I can't remember the actual night. I think I might have had a little too much to drink," Harry said before looking slightly embarrassed, "I might have accidently said the name of another girl I knew from school instead of hers."

Luke looked at him for a second before collapsing with laughter, "let me get this straight. You were in bed, shagging one of the daughters of the goddess of love and you moaned the name of a common mortal? That's brilliant, you know she's going properly hate you now!"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "yes, she was a little cold with me this morning and was glaring at me at breakfast."

The other demigod laughed again, before going serious, "Harry there is something you need to know. There is a tradition among the members of Aphrodite cabin that they have to make someone fall in love with them and then break their hear. Drew is its most avid follower, so promise me you will watch out."

Harry thanked him for the warning, he had no wish to be treated in such a way. If that was what she had planned to do then Harry had absolutely no regrets about accidentally calling her Cho because quite frankly she deserved to be called worse.

*****WOTG*****

The rest of the next two weeks past relatively uneventfully, Harry was still put through his paces in his training sessions but gradually everything was becoming easier. He was now relatively fluent when it came to Ancient Greek, both in terms of speaking and writing it, whilst his sword play had improved dramatically under Luke's tutelage.

Luke was getting really hyped up about leaving the camp, he had only done so a couple of times since he had arrived and apart from his quest they were all just trips like the one Harry had first met them on. His questions were almost constant and although Harry advised him what to pack he refused to give away any other details leading to Luke spending part of them time sulking or at least pretending to.

The rumours of what happened with Drew still raged through the camp although she still refused to speak about it. At the moment everyone seemed in agreement that Harry had broken her heart and just left her which made his popular with all the boys to whom the Aphrodite girls had done the same. The rumours hadn't prevent more of the same attempted by various other members of that same cabin, indeed it probably increased them, but Harry was more cautious after Luke's warning and had not allowed anything to happen above some heavy flirting.

The last two Capture the Flags before he left had both gone badly for Harry; for the first he and Luke joined the Hephaestus cabin in return for their help the week before and were severely thumped, Harry running afoul of two of Demeter's children and had to be rescued from inside a man-eating plant that they had set on him. The second was a little better as his team actually won, not that Harry was around to see it; Annabeth had stuck up on him early on in the game with her cap that made her invisible and knocked him out with a tree branch.

They were still no closer to finding out Harry's father although the names making the rounds were enough to make anyone nervous, at the moment most of the campers seemed certain that he was at the very least a son of the Big Three. Probably not Poseidon and so that left Zeus and Hades, both of which were very dangerous for Harry.

**AN: Father to be announced as well as a return to Hogwarts next chapter which is already written and so will be up by the end of the weekend. Any queries or plot holes noticed please leave in a review so I can sort them out.**

**Sorry I didn't make the fight scene longer but I couldn't think of anything else to add without it being too repetitive. **

**T. T Horn **


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Some people have commented on the Drew thing, yeh I probably should have done it better but this was the easiest way and my evolution of Harry into something meaner and tougher is deliberately slow, hence the need for the alcohol. I also didn't want to risk doing the whole thing (smut) and so choose to have him forget as that was the easiest way of doing it. I will do the full version on another site, when I choose which one to use.**

Chapter 10

The two weeks Harry had at the camp passed quickly and soon it was time for him and Luke to be returning to Britain. The trip on the way back was a great deal easier than getting out had been as Luke had talked to Chiron and Mr D and so Harry now a proper passport, or rather a fake that they had very quickly come up with. The goodbyes weren't exactly tearful at least for Harry there plenty of tears were shed for and, although he refused to admit it, by Luke. He was going to miss the camp and the Hermes cabin, that Harry knew, he had found a home among the thieves and pranksters and was sorry to see it go for the time he was at school. He would almost certainly be back next year that he was certain of.

Upon returning to London the demigods caught a taxi after leaving the airport for the short trip back to Grimmauld Place. The two of them alighted from the taxi, and Luke looked around curiously at the grim, dark and foreboding houses.

"Nice neighbourhood," Luke whispered to Harry, under his breath.

Harry ignored him and sat down in a park bench opposite where Number 14 Grimmauld Place was located. Luke joined him looking slightly confused.

"I thought we were supposed to be going to your house," he complained, "not hanging around a park bench in the middle of the night."

"Ssh!" Harry said, the door to Number 14 had just opened and Harry could hear voices from inside.

Professor McGonagall descended the steps from the house and started to head over to the park opposite so as to apparate out. However as soon as she stepped outside the boundaries of the Fidelius Charm, Luke started.

"Where the fuck did she come from?" he asked, wide eyed.

Hearing the sound, McGonagall spun round with her wand drawn looking for threats. Seeing only the two boys she relaxed slightly but clearly was about to obliviate them before Harry intervened.

"Wait, Professor!" he called out, "it's me, Harry!"

She lowered her wand slightly but maintained a very tight hold in it, ready to draw it back up if Harry proved to be an imposter. She examined him closely before speaking.

"And how would I know that you are actually Mr Potter?"

Harry smiled, he had thought of this in advance, "first lesson with you I was late and you threatened to turn me into a pocket watch, and then later on in that year I came to you with suspicions about a certain object which was being hidden in the castle."

She nodded and put her wand away whilst Luke looked between the two of them in total bewilderment.

"Turn you into a pocket watch!" he repeated, as if he wasn't believing what he was hearing.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said stiffly, "a pocket watch, and might I ask who you are?"

Luke was about to speak when Harry interrupted, "he's Luke Castellan, my friend and bodyguard. He's going to be staying with me and then coming to Hogwarts."

McGonagall looked at him suspiciously, "are you sure you can trust him, Mr Potter? The Dark Lord has spies everywhere!"

"The Dark Lord?" Luke asked, "that's the Voldemort guy, the one who killed Cedric?"

Harry nodded and McGonagall looked relived that he knew Cedric, the Diggorys were known for avoiding the dodgy types if Luke was on first name terms with Cedric then there was little chance that he was caught up in something he shouldn't be.

"I presume you are going to prevail upon me to give you a piece of parchment," the professor guessed correctly.

Harry took the offered piece of parchment and gave it to Luke, who looked at it curiously. "Take this and memorise everything on it!"

Luke's reaction upon seeing the house emerge from between its neighbours was really quite amusing; his eyes were near bulging out of his head and his jaw was gaping wide open. Harry grinned, nudging him before walking up the steps with Luke following in a daze. A distant crack signalled McGonagall's disapparation.

As Harry reached for the door he was bowed inside by Kreacher and came face to face with the majority of the Order who had obviously left a meeting. Snape stood off to one side and the look on his face as Harry walked through the door was comical, Dumbledore stood at the front of the group and he too had frozen whilst everyone else was just standing there, looking at him in amazement.

At that moment Luke came in and immediately wands left holsters as the Order realised there was another person with Harry. Luke looked questioningly at Harry.

"Harry, why they are all pointing sticks at me," he asked, "I'm not sure this is quite the welcome I was expecting."

"A muggle," Snape sneered, "you brought a muggle here."

Harry looked up sharply, now he was part a god he was taking no shit from Snape, "shut up Snivillius, this is my house and so I can bring who I want here."

A gasp came from the stairs and Harry looked up to see the Weasleys and Hermione standing there. Hermione looked conflicted between giving Harry a rant about disrespect towards a professor and giving him a bone crunching hug, whilst Ron and the twins were giving him thumbs up and cracking up with silent laughter.

Dumbledore looked disappointed, "I had hoped that you wouldn't resort to childish insults, Harry my boy, but I am afraid that Professor Snape does have a point. This is the Headquarters and I cannot allow you to bring someone here without my permission."

Harry was incensed, "this is only the Order's Headquarters at my pleasure. I trust Luke and I know that he does not serve Voldemort, Cedric Diggory was his best friend. He is here to act as my bodyguard, appointed by the organisation that has been training me this last month."

"I presume it would be too much for me to ask where you have been and what this organisation is?" Dumbledore sighed.

Harry nodded and summoned Kreacher, "Kreacher this is my friend, Luke Castellan, he will be staying here and then coming to school with me. Arrange for the room next to mine to be made up and he can stay there."

The house elf bowed, first to Harry and then to Luke, "Master's friend is always welcome in this house. Kreacher can see power in Master's friend, he not a wizard but Kreacher must say he is curious."

"That will be all, Kreacher" Harry said, he had no wish for more to come out in front of the Order as he wasn't sure whether it would stay quiet as he wanted it to.

"Harry I am very disappointed that you choose to run off without informing me," Dumbledore scolded him.

Harry looked at him, "I did, or has your senile brain already forgotten the letter. We made a deal Dumbledore that I would leave the house once a week, you broke it so I went overboard and broke my end."

"What about Voldemort, Harry," Dumbledore tried again, "he could have caught you and then our cause would be lost?"

"America doesn't have a problem with pureblood purists," Harry said, "Voldemort wouldn't have been able to get near me."

Ron looked up at this, "you were in America, that's sweet!"

Harry nodded, "New York, for part of the time at least. Did a bit of training, bit of fighting," he remembered Drew, "did a bit of something else."

Luke sniggered next to him, as Harry decided that he had had enough of the Order led Luke upstairs and showed him his room, when they got there Luke sat down and looked up at Harry.

"You have a lot to explain!" he said quietly.

*****WOTG*****

"That was just, wow!" Luke said, in a deep state of shock, "Hecate has been playing this one close to her chest."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "you think she knows about us?"

Luke nodded, "I'm sure, it is said she can feel every bit of magic that is cast. I wonder why she hasn't made this common knowledge, when this gets out Zeus with have her head."

"Maybe she wants to use it for her own gain," Harry shrugged.

"Or doesn't want one of the other gods to use it for theirs," Luke agreed.

Harry's eyes lit up, "yeh, can you imagine what Zeus' response would be to humans having so much power. I don't think we would survive long, if he did."

Luke shuddered and nodded in agreement, when Harry had an idea.

"Kreacher," he called out and the house elf appeared, causing Luke to jump a foot in the air, "what do you know of someone called Hecate?"

Kreacher's bug eyes bulged, "Master wants to know about Mistress Hecate, mistress of magic."

Luke inspected his nails, "yeh, I'm a cousin of hers. Harry is too."

The poor house elf looked simply overwhelmed, rocking on his feet gazing up at the two demigods in admiration.

"Kreacher is lucky to have such a well-born master," he said to himself, "the blood of gods flows in the veins of the Lord Black, mistress would be so pleased." At that moment he recovered, "if masters would follow me I will lead them to the temple."

Both Harry and Luke nodded eagerly and so Kreacher let them down into the cellars and through the potions lab. When they reached the far end, Kreacher reached up and pulled down a lever that was hidden behind a removable board, causing the part of the wall to spin away to form a doorway.

As they stepped through the doorway torches camp on to light up the room. Looking around the two of them found themselves in a small Greek temple, but was a temple. It was built in the Greek style at least the inside of it was, and was made out of the blackest stone that Harry had ever seen that gave the whole room a sort of eyrie feel to it that made Harry's hair stand on end. At the far end there was a statue of the goddess Hecate, goddess of magic and the crossroads, made of gold standing behind an altar that was made out of the same black stone as the room but lined with veins of gold. The light of the torches on the dark stone was really something to behold, it made the room so mystical and awe-inspiring that the two demigods just stood there and took it all in for a couple of moment.

"Wow," Luke whispered, "I have never, ever seen anything as magnificently mystical as this. Even Olympus for all its splendour does not quite have the same impact."

Harry nodded in the same state as his companion. Realising that they must be looking silly before the goddess, both of them approached the altar and knelt down reverently to make their prayers. Harry prayed for aid in his fight against Voldemort, whilst he could hear Luke praying for something about nightmares and the voices from it. Harry shuddered as he remembered his own.

As they both rose they noticed someone lying on the altar that hadn't been there before. Cautiously looking at whatever it was, they found two things wrapped in paper, each with a note on it addressed to each of them.

Harry took the one addressed to him and opened the letter carefully.

_Dear Harry Potter_

_I see you have found out what I have hidden from the rest of the gods, it was one of my greatest spells I ever cast, woven into the Mist to hide wizards from their sight. As your goddess I command you and your companion to keep this secret silence, for the good of magic._

_I have left you a gift as it is fitting for me as your patron goddess to give you one, beware do not allow another to take it, for its power is great._

_Remember me to your father_

_Hecate_

Harry wondered what it could be that the goddess of magic had seen fit to bestow upon him, taking up the gift cautiously so as not to break it. Unwrapping the covering Harry took out a stave like the one had used in the Capture the Flag expect there were several differences; it was made of holly and the whole thing strummed with power. There was a small slot in the side near the end into which Harry could place his wand as well as right at the top a small attachment for his knife which he could use to make either a spear, or by adjusting the angle the blade was attached at, a scythe. A button was located just above where the wand insert was located and upon pressing it, Harry watched in amazement as the stave shrank down to a small carved piece of wood, barely larger than a pen.

Looking over to where Luke stood, Harry saw him looking admiringly at a ring that was on his finger. When he saw Harry's staff he smiled appreciatively, before grinning outright when he brought his hand up and with a flick threw Harry across the room.

"How the hell?" Harry spluttered as he got to his feet.

"Nice isn't it!" Luke said happily, "the Lady Hecate made it for me, it gives me some small control over magic. Nothing like you natural people but still, no one is going to expect it when I throw them around like that. I can't wait to see Clarisse's or Annabeth's faces, they would be green with envy!"

They laughed, comparing their gifts as they returned to their rooms. Harry told Luke some of the tales of Hogwarts and Luke admitted that he couldn't wait to see the castle for himself. He also suggested they went monster hunting in the forbidden forest, an idea that Harry wasn't so keen on having seen some of the horrors that place held.

Harry spent the next day teaching Luke as much about magic as he could, taking him on a field trip to Diagon Alley. He and the Weasley twins immediately hit it off very well, as he loaded himself with as many of their pranks as he could, declaring them to be simply magnificent and threatening to introduce them to the Stroll twins which had Harry shivering in horror as he imagined the chaos.

Ron seemed to have become quite moody since Harry's return, he was a little put out about the fact that it looked like he was no longer Harry's best friend and that Luke and he were practically inseparable. Harry wasn't particularly worried about Ron, he knew it would pass as it always did, it was Hermione and Ginny's reactions that worried him. They also seemed a little annoyed that he wasn't paying much attention to them, and Harry suspected they were not going to give in that easily. Hermione was particularly annoyed that Harry refused to tell any details of what had happened whilst he was away. Harry tried but somehow he couldn't help but think of them as children, they were not ready for war despite all their assurances whereas Luke was like Harry, he had been fighting from a young age and Harry knew he could trust him to not lose his cool in a fight.

The Headmaster had not been happy when Harry had informed him that Luke would be going to Hogwarts, he believed that as a muggle Luke would never be able to see the castle though Harry suspected that Hecate would have it otherwise. He was still not entirely sure about the goddess' motives with the wizarding world, Luke had confided to him that he suspected that she was planning to use wizards as an army for when war between the gods broke out which begged the question which side would she have them fighting on? She was a titan in descent but had fought for Zeus in the war against Cronus. Yet so had Prometheus and Zeus had rewarded him by having him chained to a rock and his liver constantly consumed by eagles.

This worried both of them for Luke told Harry that Cronus was getting stronger and stronger, how Luke knew Harry didn't ask but it was frustrating news. Now not only did he was a war against Voldemort on his hands but also one against beings infinitely more powerful than he himself would ever be.

*****WOTG*****

The journey to King's Cross was fairly easy, the Ministry had provided cars for the journey and even with all their luggage and their bodyguards there was still plenty of space. Harry rode in one car with Lupin, Ron and Luke. Ron and Luke seemed to be warming slightly to each other, although that was mostly because of the work Luke was putting in.

Seeing Luke's expression as he was told to walk through a wall at the station was enough to set both of the other boys off before they demonstrated how it was to be done. It was a comforting sight seeing the huge red steam engine ready to head off and as he always did Harry felt that slight thrill going through his body. He was going back to Hogwarts! Camp was good enough and much better fun than Hogwarts was but there was just something about that castle that Harry missed.

They found an empty compartment half way down the train and settled down, Ron and Hermione soon having to disappear off to carry out prefect duties although they promised they would be back as soon as they could.

Various people dropped by, including most of the DA. Cho had dropped by and Luke had been forced to duck under the table pretending he had dropped something to disguise his laughter while Harry tried his hardest to ignore him. A little later on Neville came and Harry invited him to take a seat. He showed off his new wand which his grandmother had bought him after the wand he had been using up until then, his father's, had broken at the Ministry. Around a quarter of the way through the journey the two prefects returned to the compartment and the trolley lady came by at which point Luke forced Harry to spent a large amount of money so that he could have 'a little bit of everything'.

Not long after the trolley lady had departed the door to the compartment opened and in strode one of Harry's least favourite people in Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy stood sneering in the doorway. Harry had already decided that he was taking no shit from Snape, and if he was taking no shit from Snape there was no chance that he was taking any from a little runt like Malfoy.

"I hear that Potter brought a muggle back to school," the blond haired pounce said, twirling his wand, "are you keeping him as a pet or as something to warm your bed."

Harry made an effort to move but Luke was there first. He grabbed Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and slammed in face first into the table in the centre of the compartment. The now familiar crunch of a broken nose sounded out as blood splattered all over Hermione's book causing her to give a girlish scream. Crabbe moved to intercept Luke but a flick from the demigod's hand sent him flying down the carriage at an extremely fast speed. Goyle swung high at Luke's head but he was able to duck quickly and jab his fingers into the gorilla's side, causing him to collapse to his knees spasming. Luke then seizing his head, and rammed the door shut on it before collapsing back on his seat with the rest of the compartment looking on in amazement.

"What a tosser," he said, "I hope they're not all like that."

"I think I like you!" Ron said in awe, seizing Luke's hand and shaking it hard.

Seeing Hermione's expression, Luke shrugged, "he was going to start a fight, he was armed and let's all pretend that he attacked first. Can't get us in trouble, can they?"

Harry and Ron both laughed and it was agreed, without Hermione's assent, that yes Malfoy had attacked first and Luke was only acting in self-defence.

"Hey Harry, you still have that minotaur horn?" Luke asked.

"Yes why?" Harry asked.

Luke smiled, "because I think I might need it if I am going to manage a term hanging around a castle doing very little with people like that lot."

Harry laughed but Hermione was looking at him scandalously, "where did you get a minotaur horn, Harry? They are a banned substance and it's illegal to hunt them. Give it to me and I will give it to Dumbledore so you don't get in trouble."

"No!" Harry was slightly stung by her obedience to the rules over him.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, "it's not worth risking your place at school for a stupid horn."

Harry and Ron glanced each and were unable to hold in their snorts as they remembered Hermione in first year saying that expulsion was worse than death.

"Dumbledore is hardly going to expel me, Hermione," Harry said reassuringly, "besides I need it."

"For what?" She looked sceptical.

"For…" he started, trying to think of something, "taking down Voldemort. It's a weapon you see I am being trained to use it by Luke and his friends, it's absolutely crucial to killing Voldemort and fulfilling the Prophecy."

This time it was Harry and Luke who were trying to maintain their straight faces, with differing degrees of success. Harry succeed but Luke was utterly failing, his hands clamped over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. Fortunately Hermione could not see him and so did not pick up on his amusement.

"Very well, but I will be telling Dumbledore!" Hermione said.

Ron was looking curiously from Luke to Harry, clearly he had picked up on Luke's expression and was trying to work out what it meant.

Just as they were settling back down, Hermione reading her book, Luke studying the various chocolate frog cards avidly, he had laughed his head off when he found one of Circe, and Ron trying to wheedle information out of Harry about where he had been that supper, the door to the compartment opened. Everyone turned round to have a look at the person who upon entering had sat down in one of the last remaining free seats and was looking at Harry.

"Hello Harry Lokison."

**AN: There you have it his father is the Norse God of Mischief Loki, now the question is who just addressed him? I will be using a mixture of the film and mythology for Loki, most of it will be the film because Norse mythology is so complicated. **

**I know some people will say that Loki is not god of fire, but he is. Many sources say that before he became Odin's blood brother Loki was associated with fire and the hearth, just as the war god Tyr used to be god of the sky before the merging of the Aesir and the Vanir.**

**I know this chapter is short but I couldn't think of anything else to add in**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: A short chapter but I needed to get something out after nearly a month. Sorry for the delay I had planned up until the end of the last chapter and so was considering where to take the fic from there. Any ideas of things you wanted included PM me or leave in a review.**

Chapter 11

A rush of cold wind rushed into the compartment, followed up by the unmistakeable feeling of power that streamed from the individual who had just entered. Long clawed hands and dirty matted hair covered the figure in rags. Just the look of her was enough to send everyone frozen in horror.

"Hello Harry."

A wave of her hand and Ron, Hermione and Neville slumped in their seats asleep. Luke was unable to move his face was twisted in such fear. Such an obvious show of power was enough to cause either of the demigods to even attempt any resistance to her when she motioned that they remained in their seats.

"A Fate!"

Harry had heard of the Fates, creatures powerful enough to cause even the gods to fear them. Bodyguard or not there was no chance of Luke intervening should this meeting go bad for him. The Fates, or Norns, could take almost any form they choose but each had their favourite; that of the child, the woman and the hag. This was unmistakeably the hag.

"No, no, my dear Luke!" the hag said, shaking her head, "a Norn, we are in our Norse forms. My sisters are just making sure we will be uninterrupted whilst we have our little chat."

Both of the demigods remained fast in their seats, the less they did the less chance there was that they might accidently insult this most powerful being and so find themselves suffering a dire fate as a result.

"Yes, you have been wondering who your father was, haven't you young Harry," it was not a question. "Loki, Norse God of Fire, Mischief and Magic, you should be quite honoured, you know, for it is a rare women who Loki takes and even rarer than bares his children and what children they are. One of the Norse versions of your Big Three, I suppose, though not very popular with the rest of Asgard," the Norn said, almost to herself.

"Loki, he's the bad guy, isn't he?" Harry asked, racking his brains for anything he knew on Norse mythology, which was next to nothing.

The Norn looked at Harry piercingly, "there are bad guys and then there are bad guys, Loki wants a different order much like Zeus did when he overthrew his father, and as his father overthrew his father. So in a way he's not, per say rather different. Orders come and go, us Norns are merely to record their comings and goings?"

If Harry was relieved that his supposed father wasn't bad then he didn't show so keen was his survival instinct. Every man, demigod and god is Fate's bitch and the Norns were Fate's weavers, they alone knew what has truly passed and what was to come.

"Fate has demanded that we come to speak to you, young Lokison," the Norn continued, "she views you with particularly high interest, whether that is good for you or not, even we do not know. But know this, she has some great role for you and so for your sake it would be best to be prepared for whatever it is."

Harry nodded, before blurting out, "purpose? What purpose does she want with me? Apart from the Prophecy?"

The Norn seemed to pause in the middle of rising and looking conflicted, "there have been murmurs and whispers in the wind of Fate that the Great War is coming, perhaps your purpose lies in that? More than that I do not know!"

"The Great War?" Luke asked worried.

The Norn turned its attention on him, "the War to end all wars, the point in history that not even we in our forms as the Fates and the Norns can see past, for it is beyond our powers to predict what will happen. The Darkness will come and gods and men must take sides, I caution you Harry Lokison be ready and try pull your father back from the brink to take the right side! And you Luke, son of Hermes, put aside your plans for there will be a place for you among those that resist the Darkness."

"You already know I will not!" Luke whispered.

The Norn smiled sadly, "I knew, but the question needed to be asked for that answer to be given, and given it needs to be. Farewell young heroes, be ready for what lies ahead."

Then the very particles of her being seemed to disintegrate and before they knew they were alone again. Harry and Luke exchanged glances but neither choose to speak, each choosing instead the solitude of their own thoughts.

The others woke in time and the conversation started around them, that is apart from Neville who refused to meet Harry's eye and fled the compartment as soon as he awoke. Ron and Hermione argued fiercely around Harry but absorbed was he in his own thoughts he didn't hear anything.

******WOTG*********

Disembarking from the train, Harry motioned Luke over to one of the carriages. Dumbledore had tried to insist that Luke went by boat across the lake but Luke had refused saying that it would be better if he stayed with Harry all the way to the castle. At least that was the reason he used, Harry knew that the real one was that he just didn't like boats.

Approaching the carriages Harry saw the ominous shapes of the thestrals in the traces of the carriage and felt relieved, there was something reassuring about them as if even with all the changes he had seen there were still some things that remained the same. Luke however came close to him and whispered.

"What are they?" he said motioning towards them.

"Thestrals," Harry whispered back, "you can only see one if you have seen someone die."

"Gods above," Luke murmured, "if those aren't creatures of Hades I am not sure what is."

Harry remembered what they had learnt, "I wouldn't bet on it, remember the gods do not know about the wizarding world apart from Hecate. Even then it now appears if there are other gods apart from your ones so it could be one of theirs."

"True," Luke said, being careful to keep his distance from the horse like creatures.

It was there that Harry saw Luna, patting one of the thestrals as he had seen her doing last year. Motioning Luke to join him, he headed out to her. His companion seemed slightly wary of going to close but was eventually convinced.

"Hi Luna," he said smiling, there was something about the blond that always made Harry smile, "how was your summer?"

"Fine," she said with her normal dream air, "how was yours? Did you like the Camp, I presume my aunt found you on the train, she was looking for you."

"Your aunt?" Luke asked freaking out.

Luna's eyes widened, "oh Harry you have a new friend, what's his name?"

"Oh yeah" Harry said, still slightly dazed, "Luna this is Luke, Luke meet Luna Lovegood."

"Pleased to meet you," Luna smiled at the still shocked Luke. "Yes my aunt I am the daughter of one of the Norns, you met my mother's sister. The Hag is my aunt as is the mother, my mother is the Child."

With that she walked off to one of the carriages leaving the two stunned teens in her wake. A child of one of the Big Three was considered to be powerful, were it to be known that there was a daughter of a Fate then the heavens knew what would happen.

"A Norn, the daughter of one of the Fates," Luke seemed to be having problems breathing, "no wonder the girl is a little different, she must be thoroughly fucked up."

Harry knew what he meant. The Norns or Fates were the goddesses and guardians of destiny and fate and so as their daughter it was probable that Luna shared some of their powers. Which probably explained why she thought in a way totally different to anyone else and why she could see creatures no one else could.

*********WOTG********

Harry sat down in his place on the Gryffindor table, upon entering the castle they had been met by Professor McGonagall who had taken Luke away so that he could join the first years who were about to be sorted.

He looked down the table and groaned slightly as Ron and Hermione joined him, taking the two spots either side of him, whilst Ginny sat directly opposite. It was a clear and childish attempt to ensure that Luke did not have a space to sit when he was sorted. It wasn't necessary though, Harry was almost certain that Luke would not be coming to Gryffindor he would most likely be joining either the Ravenclaws or the Slytherins although Harry hoped it would be the former rather than the later.

The doors of the Great Hall opened wide as Professor McGonagall led in the new students, there were around sixty of them in total which was quite small. Luke was the last to enter, walking behind all the little children with a sardonic smile on his face. Harry had to restrain a grin as he saw his friend wave merrily at Malfoy whose nose looked like it had been fixed unfortunately.

The Sorting of the little people was rather boring and so Harry instead spent the time fiddling with his cutlery. At last Professor McGonagall reached the last name on the list.

"Luke Castellan!"

Luke walked up and rather than sit down on the tiny little stool, he lifted the hat and put it on his head. Or rather he would have put it on his head had it not screamed before it touched a hair on his head.

"Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table was not quite sure how to react, they had obviously heard what he had done to Malfoy and were wondering what they should do. There was a small bit of polite clapping from some elements of the table but most sat in stony silence. Luke however ignored that and grinned predatorily at Malfoy and flouncing over sat directly opposite the blond, who flinched.

"A Slytherin!" Ron was frowning in horror, "just as I was starting to like the guy he gets himself into Slytherin."

"That doesn't mean you cannot like him anymore," Harry said, helping himself to some of the potatoes that had appeared in a dish in front of him.

Ron looked torn, "I know, I know but a Slytherin!" he whined.

"Ron just because he is a Slytherin doesn't mean he is not Harry's friend," Hermione added, in that slightly annoying tone of hers, "after all I am sure not all Slytherins are totally bad!"

She didn't seem quite sure about that statement but Ron and Harry rolled their eyes anyway, such a Hermione interjection – totally unnecessary lecturing.

"I didn't say they were!" Ron said sullenly, which was true he hadn't.

The rest if the meal continued in silence, although Ginny spent a lot of the time trying to engage Harry in some sort of conversation. Before he had gone to Camp Harry would never had been able to pick up on it but a couple of weeks with the Aphrodite cabin was enough to know when someone was trying to chat you up. Now he saw that she was trying to ensure he saw as a mature woman rather than his best friend's little sister. However she really wasn't his type and so he tried to rebuff her as subtly as possible, unfortunately she didn't seem to pick up the hint and continued on in the same vein. He was pretty sure she was going out with Dean Thomas as it was, he seemed pretty sure of it too from the way he was glaring. Harry shrugged apologetically to let him it know it wasn't him and the glare relaxed slightly.

As the feast finished and the students stood to leave Harry hurried over to the door and the Slytherins as they were leaving, falling into step with Luke.

"So Slytherin," Harry said, "I can't say I was surprised. You are quite the slimy snakey sort."

That comment drew a number of scowls from the surrounding Slytherins but none of them particularly wanted to pick a fight in the middle of the entrance hall. Luke however just laughed it off. Laughter that stopped as a shadow passed over them.

"I suppose that you found the state Mr Malfoy was in after the train journey amusing Mr Potter," Snape sneered, "after all son will take after father and all that."

Luke looked like he was going to interrupt and justify his attack but Harry kicked him hard in the shins. If his friend was going to do well in Slytherin then he at least needed Snape's indifference if not his approval. Trying to get through with Snape's enmity would be almost impossible. It was at this point Snape turned to Luke.

"Mr Castellan, Mr Nott here will show you to the common room," he said civily indicating to a mousy faced youth who stood off to one side, "he will also educate you on the standards required of a student in my house as I imagine there is little chance Potter will have done so."

Luke nodded to Harry and followed the Slytherin boy down one of the side passages that lead down to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room. Snape waited for him to disappear before turning back to Harry.

"Potter," he said as cold as ice, "I would be a little more careful if I were you. I will be watching you. Closely!"

With that departing remark he swept off down the same passageway leaving Harry with the last of the students leaving the dining room who were watching with a curious look. Ignoring them Harry stood there, thinking.

A stop to the library on the way back to the common room would be necessary. It was just then that he remembered what he had found out when researching his knife; his ancestors on his Potter side had been responsible for the extinction of the dwarves because they held true to the old gods. The Potters were a Norse family, as were the Longbottoms, meaning that to them the old gods were the Norse gods. That meant either his father or the Norns had a sense of humour and irony.

Sneaking down the corridor that lead down to the library Harry made sure to avoid as many of the teacher's classrooms as possible. Even for an academic subject breaking the curfew was no something that he particularly wanted to be caught doing particularly not on the first night of the year.

Taking a guess that the restricted section would be the place where he would get the information that he needed Harry made his way through the metal gates that blocked the entrance and walked through the lines of dusky shelves. A small tome in the History of Magic section that covered the period regarding the massacre of the dwarves disappeared in Harry's robes although he was reluctant to touch it; the reason it was in the restricted section was clear from the title _A Gory History Of the Dark Ages. _

Two books on Norse wizards and Norse runes were added to the pile, as well as a book of the _Genealogy of the Northern Pureblood Families. _At long last he found a book on Viking Mythology that looked like it had come more from a muggle source rather than a wizarding one, probably brought in and left by a muggleborn or a halfblood, either way it was what he was looking for and so he slipped back to the Gryffindor common room and his dorm.

That night Harry spent the night curled up in his bed reading a large book he had found on Norse mythology. As interesting as he was there was little he could to prevent the fear of dread that ran through him as he read of Ragnarok, as he read of Loki's imprisonment and remembering his dream of the serpent with the dripping venom. So many different clues, all of which seemed to support the idea that Harry was the son of the Asgardian version of Voldemort. He ideally wondered whether Voldemort had any children, would he make a good father? Would Loki? A God?

He wondered whether the gods of the Norse were too different from the gods of the Greeks but then he remembered that to the satyrs he was the son of a Greek god, meaning that it was likely the same species or at least very closely related. As this thought hit him Harry could not restrain the laughter and had to shake his head, typically he was applying rules to the gods. Back at Camp he had learnt that was never the sort of thing a mortal, or even a demi-god, should attempt. Thinking of the Camp Harry wondered whether the Norse had their own Camp, would it be similar to Camp Half-Blood or would it be different.

Not that he would be accepted there of course, from what he had read he would be treated the same way as if a son of Cronus had appeared at Camp Half Blood; that is to say not welcomingly. What would the Greek gods do when they found out about the Norse gods? Where there other pantheons of gods apart from those two? Roman, Celtic, African? Could all those gods exist as well?

But most importantly what had the Norn meant when she had talked about the Great War?

**AN: This is a very short chapter but it is just out there so I get some progress on the story. I was originally going to have it Luna at the door but as a number of reviews pointed out that was just so typical of fanfics I chose not to.**

**Anything you want included or directions you think this should go PM me or leave in a review.**

**T. T. Horn**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Even if you read this chapter through first time round, please read again! Quite large plot changes scattered through the chapter. Sorry for any inconvenience with my mucking around with it, it just needed to be done I made up for it with my longest chapter yet.**

Chapter 12

Harry rose early the next morning, breakfast was yet to start and would not open for another hour. Slipping down the stairs into the common room Harry found it totally deserted which was not usual for this time in the morning.

Making his way through the portrait hole Harry headed out in the direction of the grounds, being careful to remain out of sight of as many of the awake portraits as he possibly could to prevent detection.

Finding a quiet spot by the edge of the lake Harry sat down and stared out over the surface of the water. Quickly erecting some wards that would ward him against anyone who would choose to sneak up on him, Harry settled down and took a deep breath.

Trying to remember the feeling that went through his body as he summoned his fire weapon, he searched his mind for any sign of the power that he had felt earlier. Every time he had used this power before he had been in some sort of danger or a fight, now he wanted to see if he could do it when there was no pressure on him.

Nothing came. Frustrated Harry huffed and threw himself back against the bank, lying their absorbing some of the early morning sun. Suddenly he sat up sharply a sharp tingling feeling was coming from one of his finger. A light flame, the same as he had seen before, shivered slightly as the wind coming off the lake caressed it. Remembering how he was able to mould the shape before Harry tried another experiment. Lifting his sleeves so that his arm was bare, he imagined the flame making its way along his arm.

It worked. Or at least kind of did, instead of the smooth, swift movement he had hoped for and imagined, the flame kind of hopped, skipped and jumped its way up in a very chaotic and random way. Either way it was progress and Luke said the more he practiced with his abilities the better and more powerful they would become.

Deciding to go big, Harry imagined the fire growing into a small ball of flame, and then pushing his will into it he imagined it growing. Golf ball size, cricket ball size, football size, and bigger until it was a huge metre wide ball which he had to hold in two hands to stop it moving too much and setting light to everything.

Movement in front of him caused Harry to look up in readiness for a fight. There was something in the water, something that wasn't the giant squid. Someone would have been the better word as the shape stopped her swimming and watched him for a couple of moments before swimming over for a closer look.

"A fire elemental?" it whispered.

Harry saw what it was; a merperson. Yet that shouldn't be right, merpeople were physical unable to speak any other language apart from Mermish, their bodies weren't designed in such a way that allowed for it.

It was now a couple of metres from the shore and Harry watched in shock as it stood and started to walk to the shore. Its fish tail was shedding its scales and transforming into a pair of pale white legs draped in a beautiful silk material.

The mermaid, for she was obviously female, cocked her head from where she stood on the shore examining Harry. She was of basic human form; her skin was slightly silvery as if made up of hundreds of different forms and was of a slight blue complexion, but with jet black hair the same colour as much of the Black Lake. She was beautiful, even by the standards of the naiads and daughters of Aphrodite that Harry had seen at Camp Halfblood. She wore only a sheet of glimmering silk-like material, which fell all the way to her ankles and had deep blue swirling patterns tattooed on her arms.

"A demigod," she breathed, her voice sounding as running water, "well, well that is a surprise. I would leave here as soon as possible, young demigod, there are many who would see you in a state slightly less health than that you are currently in."

Harry reduced the size of his fireball till it was palm size but kept it lit, ready to defend himself should the need arise.

"Who?" Harry asked, "who would seek me harm?"

The mermaid laughed, "young demigod, the creatures you have encountered in these grounds do not have fond memories of the gods, indeed only one holds enough respect to be able to walk among them without fear. I presume you know who that is?"

"Hecate," Harry guessed.

"Quite so," she said, "yours relatives are not popular here. The centaurs remember how the Romans and their gods came with fire to the Druids' groves and threw them down, the merpeople were turned fishlike when their ancestors refused the advances of the god Apollo and the house elves were once true elves before they turned from the old gods and were in return cursed. As I said, you are not welcome here!"

"What are you?" Harry asked, "are you some kind of merperson?"

The woman looked at him carefully before answering, "I am a water spirit, part of the Spirit Court. Each major body of water has its own and this is the largest and most powerful in the area. We are related to the merpeople and to the naiads but are neither. But here am I answering questions when you should be doing the same little hero, so whose your father?"

She smiled slightly seductively at Harry as if that would make him more likely to answer.

"I am not an offspring of the Greek gods," Harry said, "I am Norse!"

The spirit looked at him in surprise, "it is rare for one of Asgard to have a child, especially with a mortal human. In that they are very unlike their Greek and Roman brethren but if you think that will make you safer than you will be misleading yourself, for it adds a new threat."

Harry waited for a moment for her to continue before clearing his throat, "and what threat would this be?"

"A threat from within the castle," she whispered, "an old evil, dedicated towards the destruction of you and your kind."

Harry was troubled, a threat from within the castle meant that it would be harder to detect or hide away from. After all the basilisk was able to strike pretty much at will, there was nowhere in the castle where it was safe. Could this new threat be of the same order.

A ripple in the water behind the spirit caught Harry's attention. He nodded to it, drawing the spirit's attention to it, "that another of your kind?" he asked.

The water spirit's eyes widen, "kelpie!"

Harry swore and reached for his wand, recalling all he knew about kelpies. Shapeshifting water demon native to Britain and Ireland, able to take any form and possibly very dangerous. The spirit certain seemed to think so as she lay shivering on the shore.

Suddenly a monstrous face loomed out of the water. A mixture of a dragon and a giant snake, the form this kelpie had chosen as his own was terrifying. Sudden movement to Harry's left drew his attention as the water spirit dove into the water. She had run out options; she could not go too far from the lake and then the kelpie would be able to pick her off the shore. Her best chance was to try and avoid the kelpie in the water.

She needed a distraction.

The kelpie was diving in and out of the water, trying to pin the hapless water spirit near the shore where it would be easier for it to catch and eat her. The spirit soon tired and was left clutching to a rock near the shore line and the kelpie reared its head to strike. Suddenly a fireball smacked into its face out of nowhere, leaving a scorching mark on its cheek. It turned its head in the direction from which the fireball had come and spotted Harry.

Hissing in rage, it used its tail to smash the water spirit unconscious on the rock before diving at Harry, fangs ready to strike. Sending a last firebolt in the direction of the kelpie's gaping mouth, Harry dived to the side without checking to see whether or not it connected. The kelpie though did connect with the ground, sending shock waves through the earth causing Harry to lose his footing and tumble behind another rock.

He sat there panting for a moment, the rock situated between him and the enraged kelpie. He needed to keep the kelpie's attention on him without getting eaten himself. At the moment the second situation looked more likely than surviving with the first. Closing his eyes Harry began to pray in earnest.

Opening his eyes Harry eeped in shock as he saw a blurred version of himself rise out of his body, it flickered slightly but was clear enough that as soon as the kelpie saw it, it raised itself into the attack. Pegging it away from the rock Harry watched as the kelpie tried to kill the other him, its jaws just seemed to pass straight threw it. An illusion, Harry laughed that was just sweet.

Unfortunately his laugh drew the thing's attention and at that moment Harry's illusion flickered and died.

"Oh shit!" Harry swore.

The kelpie lunged at him and Harry knew he would not be able to side step this time, not backed up to the pointed rock behind him as he was. Drawing all his power he send a huge fireball at the diving kelpie's head. The kelpie hardly felt the blow, resist to fire as it was, the fireball only knocked it off its course slightly.

It was enough. The pointed rock behind Harry imbedded itself in the roof of the kelpie's mouth, piercing all the way up to the creature's brain.

Harry scrambled to his feet, praising whichever god was listening for the fluke that had just occurred. Remembering the water spirit Harry hurried to the lakeside where she was beginning to pick herself off the rock against which she had been thrown.

"Thank you, young demigod," she said, "you saved my life. I will not forget it."

"It's ok," Harry said shuffling his feet, he had changed massively over the last couple of months but he was still unable to take praise and gratitude easily.

"My name is Meera, sentinel of the Blackwater River," she said motioning towards one of the rivers that fed into the Black Lake, "should you need help go there and I will repay the debt I owe you, Harry Lokison."

Harry started, "how do you know….."

Meera smiled, "your name. Loki is the only Norse god whose has such power over fire, though even your father gains you more enemies. Know that today you made a friend, I will not forget nor will the Water Court of the Black Lake."

She noticed the dead kelpie, "bring me its body."

Harry looked at her like she was mad, "how am I supposed to bring….."

"It will shrink down," she interrupted, "that is only the form they take not their real one."

Sure enough when Harry went over to where the body of the kelpie was it soon shrank down to something that vaguely resembled a small seahorse, around the same size as one too. Bringing it back over to where Meera stood in the shallows, he handed it over.

"I will take this back to court," she said, taking the body, "we have enchanters there who will make you a charm out of it."

"Thanks," Harry said.

"No, thank you," she smiled before turning serious, "one last piece of advice, watch out for the family of the bear."

Harry watched as she swam out into the lake and disappeared underneath the surface before turning back and starting to walk up to the castle.

*********WOTG********

Harry wasn't due to have a lesson until a little later in on the day, so he decided that now was the time to go and find Luke to ensure that he hadn't killed anyone on his first night. That might be a little difficult to explain to Dumbledore.

He went down into the dungeons to where he knew where the Slytherin common room was because of his little visit there in second year. Finding the hidden entrance to the common room Harry sat down and began to wait.

Eventually after around twenty minutes the wall slid open and out stepped Luke, followed closely by the rat faced boy who Harry remembered as Nott. Seeing Harry Nott quickly excused himself and ducked back inside the common room.

Walking up towards the corridor out of the dungeons, they exchanged a bit of casual banter for a bit before coming to the entrance hall the two of them paused for a moment before heading outside in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

"So tell me what happened last night?" Harry asked curious.

Luke laughed, "well as soon as….."

**Luke's Point of View (The Evening Previous)**

Luke followed Nott down the passageway that he had seen the rest of the Slytherins going down earlier. After a couple of minutes walking in silence the mouse faced boy broke the silence.

"You're American?" he said as an awkward conversation starter.

Luke nodded not sure whether he wanted to speak or not, but the other boy didn't seem to pick up on this.

"What's it like in America," he continued, "I mean there the Wizarding Community is supposed to be quite insular, we hear very little from them."

Luke perked up a little at that, if the American community was insular than there was less of a chance that he might slip up and say something that might get him in trouble.

"I use a different type of magic than you," Luke said, thinking of the ring that even now was firmly lodged on his fingers.

"So I heard from Malfoy," Nott said drily, "you will forgive me if I don't believe you, Malfoy has a habit of making up stories to explain why Potter or anyone else was able to beat him."

"You'll see!" Luke said confidently.

Just as he said that two of the larger Slytherin boys stood out from behind a corner where they were standing.

"So what do we have where?" the larger of them said, "if it isn't Potter's little bum-buddy, I think we ought to teach him a lesson about his friends."

Luke couldn't resist the jab, "you think? Dangerous isn't that!"

The two of them advanced with snarls, cracking their knuckles and reaching for their wands. Nott moved from behind him and stood off to one side, Luke glared at him but he just shrugged in response. Luke could understand his move, not that he liked it or appreciated it.

The first one drew back his wand dramatically, clearly going to try and impress as much as possible. By now a couple of the older Slytherins had gathered around and were watching with interest, some cheering the two on others measuring the situation carefully.

Just as the gorilla reached the pinnacle of his dramatic flourishing, Luke moved. Flicking the hand which had the wand-ring on its finger, Luke imagined the going flying into the wall opposite. And fly he did. The sound of the crack sounded through the dungeons and a settled hush fell over the assembled crowd. The other boy looked scared now, there was no way he could back out and keep his dignity so he had to go for the all-out attack.

Another swish deprived the boy of his wand but he pressed on regardless, attempting to rain down blows upon Luke's body. Dodging them all easily, Luke waited for his moment to strike and it came a couple of seconds later when the boy's fist glided past his head. In a heartbeat, Luke had seized the offending limb and brought it down hard on his knee.

Snap!

The boy's arm broke with a deafening clap and once again silence reigned among the assembled Slytherins. Yet it was not over. Even though the boy was down, Luke was not finished. Grabbing the boy by the hair on the back of his head, he began to smash his face repeatedly off the floor. Pulling himself up he imagined pure pain and sent it through his ring to wrack the body of the barely conscious teen, whose body spasmed in pain. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he, like many men had before him, savoured the feeling coming the pain he was causing.

"Stop!" finally one of the prefects stood in to stop the torture.

As Luke stepped away from the prone body on the floor he looked at his handy work, he was surrounded by number of different groups of Slytherins and the two bodies were still lying well and truly out of it. The one whom he had thrown against the wall was lucky to be alive, from the looks of it he had a number of broken ribs and a broken jaw as well as a thorough mashed up body with plenty of, Luke suspected, internal bleeding. The other was in much the same state, multiple broken bones in his face as well as a broken arm and his body still racked from the pain curse that Luke had held him under.

Luke looked around at those who were watching to gauge their reactions. A small group was watching him with hatred dominating their features, to them the two people who Luke had put out where close friends and so they looked like they might attack him if they weren't being held back by their leaders. From what Harry could see Malfoy was included in this group, his small body framed at either side by those of his hulking bodyguards. Another group led principally by Nott and two girls were watching him with interest and it was these two groups that Luke labelled as the Death Eaters and their sympathisers.

After a couple of seconds milling around the crowd began to disperse back in the direction of the common room. After he was sure that they had mostly gone, Nott approached Luke again.

"Well that went well," he said in a relieved sort of voice.

"Thank you," Luke asked. "Could you helped you know."

Nott shrugged, "course I could have, but I didn't and you would be hard pressed to find someone who would. Had I helped you and we lost, which I was sure would happen, then I would suffer for it, however if I stood out whatever happened I would not lose anything."

"Pragmatic bugger, aren't you?" Luke scowled, not really angry because he would have done the same but missing the nobility of people like Harry.

"It's how I survive when others don't," Nott said unapologetically.

By now they had entered the common room and they found all the Slytherins assembled there. It was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs, which from the look if it extended partway under the lake, giving the light in the room a green tinge. The common room has lots of low backed black and dark green leather sofas with buttons which were the sitting place of some of the senior students whilst the juniors were sitting cross-legged on the floor. Malfoy was sitting over near the fire and so Luke and Nott choose one of the sofas on the opposite side of the room. Sitting down Luke looked around the room it has quite a grand atmosphere, but also quite a cold one yet he still found he quite liked it.

Nott seemed to be really uncomfortable on the sofa, as if he felt they were going to be kicked off it at any moment, fortunately though it seemed that Luke's little show in the corridor ensured that they were left alone.

When Luke asked Nott what they were all waiting for the other Slytherin replied that their Head of House Snape normally gave a speech to the whole house before leaving them to initiate the new Slytherins into the ranks. While they were waiting Luke decided to learn a little more about the rest of his classmates.

"So, Nott," he said, "you going to give me an introduction to some of my new class and house mates?"

Nott seemed to hesitate for a moment before acquiescing.

"You know, Draco Malfoy," he said, motioning towards the blond Slytherin who was watching them with hatred in his eyes, "spoilt brat with a rich and powerful father, at least he was until he was thrown in Azkaban last summer. Strong Death Eater ties most likely will join them as soon as he leaves."

Next he motioned to the two bodyguards, "Crabbe and Goyle, not as thick as they look but still act as Malfoy's bodyguards because their fathers tell them to."

Pointing at a relatively attractive, at least in human terms, girl who was hanging off Malfoy's arm, tittering at whatever he said, Nott said her name was Pansy Parkinson. "A minor side branch of an important family, obsessed with Malfoy and will most likely be a formal consort of some sort when he gets married, although not if his future wife gets a choice in the matter."

Here he pointed to a young woman with golden blond hair who was glaring at the other girl.

"Astoria Greengrass, youngest daughter of the Greengrass family. Bethrothed to Malfoy practically from birth and so has an intense dislike for Parkinson."

"Blaise Zabini," he said, pointing at an olive skinned man who was watching Astoria closely, "rumoured to be passionately in love with Astoria Greengrass, but still close friends with Malfoy. That will probably be a duel or two in the future!"

Next he pointed to another woman, who closely resembled Astoria and who was looking round the room, watching all movement carefully.

"Daphne Greengrass," Nott whispered, "a practicing physco, a future Bellatrix Lestrange if it wasn't for the fact she would never take orders from someone else. A future dark lady, very powerful in the dark arts with some sense to back it up." He turned his attention to the brunette next to her, "Tracy Davies, a neutral in the whole Dark-Light debate, has been driven into Greengrass' arms, some say literally her arms, to avoid both sides."

"And you?" Luke asked.

"Me?" Nott said, "I'm just a small player…."

"No you're not," Luke observed, "you are the snake in the grass, the thief who comes in the night and I fear the night thief more than the mugger in the daylight."

"Very philosophical," Nott mocked.

"Am I wrong?" Luke asked.

Nott shrugged, "not really. Only son, mother's dead and I kind of take the side that will ensure I survive."

Luke nodded, resolving to keep a close eye both on Nott and on his own back. For from what Harry had told him it didn't look like Voldemort was going to lose.

"Now, Luke," Nott said, reclining back in his sofa as if he was made for him, "tell me, I have seen your magic now and know enough to know it's different to mine, how is it different?"

The talk among those who were within hearing distance didn't exactly subside, Slytherins were too subtle for that, but there was enough of a lessening in the general noise for Luke to know the few conversations that were left were either being held by those two young to know valuable information when it is being told or as a pretence by those who wouldn't like to be accused of eavesdropping.

Luke shrugged, "my magic is different, there are only a few of us in the world. The rings we wear on our fingers are the bases of our power, like your wands, although we have some others."

"How come we have never heard of you?" a voice from behind came.

Luke turned quickly and saw the dark skinned boy who Nott had introduced as Blaise Zabini as being the one who had asked the question.

Luke shrugged, "like you we are really quite insular, there are only around a couple hundred of us and that number is dropping. We had rumours of you but we considered them mere myths, it is nice to know there are some more people who are quite like us."

"You've never met another wizard?" Zabini asked curiously.

"No," Luke shook his head, "Potter was the first wizard we have meet in recorded history."

"Yes, tell us how you met Potter?" a girl who had been standing in the shadows came out and stepped gracefully over to the sofa, where Nott quickly rose so she could sit.

"A pleasure, Miss Greengrass," Luke said smoothly, "I met Harry when a couple of us were on a trip to London, we meet up and he decided to come with us."

Greengrass seemed interested by this, "why did he come with you? As far as we were aware he has been safely under the control and safety of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, what would possess him to take up with a bunch of total strangers?"

Luke noticed that Zabini seemed to think this question was of great importance as well, probably so that he could go and report it to Malfoy as soon as the conversation had finished.

"Harry is very quiet about it," Luke said carefully, thinking of a way he could spin this so as not to reveal too much information, "from what I gathered there has been a slight difference of opinion between Harry and the Order and so he decided to have some time off."

It was carefully worded so that it would sound as if it were just some small argument to those who were not particularly observant but unfortunately for Luke there were a large number of good observers in the room and he was speaking to two of the best.

"So Potter has had a large argument with Dumbledore," Zabini said, his eyes glistening with interest.

That statement sent off a flurry of muttering and speculations as each individual tried to work out what that would been for them.

"I never said that," Luke said quietly.

"Oh but you did," Greengrass said, "for Potter to go as far as going abroad to America to get away from Dumbledore, I would say Potter is no longer sure about his willingness to be part of this war?"

If there were whispers before now there were gasps of surprise and even a couple of shouts of joy. The rest of the common room had clearly given up any pretence of not listening. The key players however made little sign of any impact of the news. It was then that Luke realised how this could go and had to resist a smile.

He nodded.

Zabini smirk grew, "so the Dark Lord no longer needs to worry about Potter interfering as long as he is left alone."

Again Luke nodded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple of Slytherins disappearing out of the common room in the direction of the dungeons. Without a doubt they were going straight to the Owlery and from there they would send a message to their parents who would then probably pass the news on to Voldemort.

At that moment Snape swept into the room his robes billowing behind him.

"Ahh good I see you are all here," he said in that subtle yet dangerous voice of his, ignoring the fact that he must have run into the two Slytherins who had just gone to the Owlery.

What followed was a huge lecture about the Slytherin tradition and rules as well as house loyalty. All of which Luke couldn't be bothered to tell Harry besides it was against the rules to tell a non-Slytherin of them. He decided to break the rules for the induction for reasons that would become clear.

As soon as Snape had left the Seventh year prefect soon out at the front and called all new Slytherins to him. Apparently it was not just first years for Luke was also shoved to the front by Nott and Zabini.

"We are gathered here to witness the induction of these new members of our house into our number, to witness their emergence as members of the Order of the Serpent." The perfect spoke clearly, "it is our cause to remember the commandments of the Mistress of Magic, however we believe that to be and to fight those godless ones who seek to destroy our hallowed traditions."

Luke felt something inside of him swell at the prefect's words and realised he must have been granted a form of charmspeak for this particular speech. A quick glance at the first years and he saw they were all entranced, unable to resist it as he was with his blood and his age.

"We shall now begin with the swearing of oaths."

Each of the third years walked forward and swore an oath promising themselves to the service of their cause and soon it was Luke's turn.

"I hereby swear to those assembled, that I will to the best of my ability seek to follow the rules and honour the code of the Order. Its goals I shall make my goals and its enemies shall be mine own. Thus do I swear, thus will I live."

Luke realised he had spoken his oath in Greek, which as his native language was the language to which the matter of oaths was bound. When he returned to his seat he saw Noyy looking at him questioningly.

"My people speak Greek," he whispered, "we hold to the old gods, I can trace my line back to the times of the Ancient Greeks."

It wasn't technically a lie but Luke remembered what Harry had said about to the purebloods how far you can trace your family back was a status symbol. Hopefully that should be enough to at least match some of the younger families at least.

From the look of astonishment he received off the Slytherins who were within hearing distance was plain to see that he had more than surpassed them.

There was no more talking because the Seventh form prefect raised his hands and silence fell.

"Now is the time for the prayers, as many of you know it is allowed for you to pray to whoever or whatever you choose but you are all expected to join in with the prayer to the Goddess Hecate."

_Most ancient goddess, beautiful Hecate_

_Powerful, swift, all present,_

_We pray to thee this day asking that thou_

_Be with us,_

_Come to our aid in times of our need._

_Ever watchful_

_Nothing escapes your understanding_

_Your domain should be unbounded_

_The secrets of the heavens_

_The earth and the underworld_

_Will be Yours to own._

_Companion of all_

_Who travel in darkness, hear us_

_Bearing light in your hands_

_Be the guide_

_Through the dangerous places of the world_

_Protect those who are in need of protection._

_Mistress of Magic_

_In your honour_

_I offer his flame of hope_

_As a sign of my intend, love and everlasting service_

_With all those who are oppressed by the cruel reign _

_Of those who would call themselves your masters._

Luke was such a degree of shock that he almost forgot his own prayers. Sure he had expected something controversial from the people that worshipped Hecate above all else but this was pure treason. Should Zeus, Poseidon or Hades find out that Hecate was laying claim to their territories then there would be outright war.

The voice inside his head seemed to delight at the idea.

********WOTG**********

"So Voldemort is no longer after me," Harry asked in delight.

Luke shrugged, "perhaps, but perhaps not. Either way I don't think he is going to let you live, not if he knows about the Prophecy he won't. But there is more!"

He then proceeded to tell Harry about the initiation service.

Harry whistled, "so now Hecate is definitely up to something and that something involves taking power away from the Big Three."

Luke nodded, "yeah but that's not what's troubling me. For all her power here, on Olympus Hecate is a small time goddess, she doesn't have the power to stand any chance against the Three, so why is she so ready to rebel against them?"

"You think something or someone else is backing her?" Harry clarified.

Luke nodded, "that's exactly what I think."

*******WOTG*******

Luke soon left to go to a lesson leaving Harry alone to his thoughts. Possibly being finally free from Voldemort was something that he would savour for the short time that it lasted. He was under no illusions that Voldemort would just let him live, he knew that eventually Voldemort would take the advice of the Prophecy and would try to see Harry dead.

Thinking this Harry started to head towards his next lesson. As he walked down the corridor leading past the Room of Requirement, he saw Neville coming the other way. They both paused for a moment, hesitating as they considered what to do next. Finally Neville squared his shoulders and marched over to Harry.

"We need to talk," he said unsure of himself.

Harry nodded, equally unsure. The Longbottoms were the last remaining major Viking family left in Britain, the Potters themselves had been a Roman family that choose to remain behind when the Empire abandoned the islands and later the scion of the House Potter married the only remaining member of one of the major Viking families. It was through this marriage that the Potter-Longbottom alliance grew and from this the conversion of the last remaining major house that worshipped the Norse Gods.

This much Harry had known before the night before but new reading after he had come in from the lake had revealed secrets that he was still trying to get his head around the immensity of. He had decided to wait until he properly understood them before trying to talk to Luke about them because he knew that Luke would consider running from school with Harry in tow.

For both families had become fanatically Christian, as had many of the other families that had converted, together forming a political order dedicated towards the destruction of those who worshipped the old Gods.

For hundreds of years the Order had been responsible for hunting out those who were deemed to be in the pay of the Dark gods, through various methods such as the Inquisition and the Witch hunts. Followers of Norse Gods, the remaining Celtic Druids and the Greek and Roman priests had all been hunted out. Finally with the collapse of religion in the Wizarding World following the Reformation, the Order ceased to exist its memory only sustained through a series documents telling of its purpose to acts against those who held evil in their hearts. These documents remained lost until one day they were found by a young headmaster and the Order of the Phoenix was reborn.

The Order of the Phoenix so named because the Potter and Longbottom families saw their conversion from the old gods to the new as like the phoenix coming out from the ashes.

"We need to talk," Neville said unsure of himself.

Harry nodded, equally unsure.

"I sorry Harry I had to," Neville said with true regret in his voice, "you are one of the guys who has been nicest to me, but I cannot ignore the purpose."

"What did you do, Neville?" Harry asked calmly, whilst his mind raced.

Neville seemed to steel themselves, "I told Dumbledore, I told him about the true purpose of the Order. He's coming for you."

**AN: I think that is an improvement on the previous edition of this chapter. What do you think of the water spirit, shall I make her a permanent character or just leave her at that? I only introduced her because I didn't like the original scene with Daphne.**

**Changed Malfoy because simply I wanted another bad guy, inter Slytherin politics should make things a little more interesting.**

**Any mistakes, plot holes or suggestions or definite unwanteds please leave in a review.**

**T.T Horn**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry's mouth went dry, "why, Neville, why?"

Neville looked at Harry with regret, "it's what I have raised to do, since an early age my grandmother has instilled it into me as I will do to my children."

"I was your friend," Harry half shouted.

"I know," Neville shook his head regretfully, "but not anymore, I have given you a head start because of our friendship but should I see you again after today I will be forced to attack you."

"The Order don't know of the purpose though," Harry said desperately.

Neville smiled sadly, "they do, why do you think my family and yours were such prominent members, we remembered its earlier purpose as do many of the other members. I sent them all letters, they will be here soon!"

"Dumbledore won't move against me though, not with the Prophecy," Harry said semi-confidently.

Neville raised an eyebrow, "not even when told you are the son of the god who is going to be responsible for the end of the world. He will find another way to fulfil the Prophecy, after all another can still meet the conditions they only need to be marked by his hand."

Then it hit Harry, "he means to make you the Chosen One doesn't he?"

Neville's nod confirmed the fact that there was no place for Harry at Hogwarts anymore. He allowed his arms to fall to his sides as if in despair, moving them closer to his wand. Before Neville could prepare himself he was stunned on the floor.

Harry drew his knife and approached the unconscious form of his former friend. He hesitated wondering whether or not to carry out on it. Neville needed to be silenced yet on the other hand too many people knew already and the act would only cement distrust towards him in the minds of the wizarding public.

"Kreacher!"

There was a crack as the house elf appeared.

"What does the mighty master wish," Kreacher said bowing low, then he noticed the unconscious figure on Neville on the floor, "does master wish Kreacher to dispose of the body somewhere where it cannot be found? Is that master's wish?"

Harry shook his head, "no Kreacher, I need you to take his body somewhere in the castle where it will not be found and it will take him some time to alert everyone else. As soon as you have done that take mine and Luke's stuff back to Grimmauld Place and there lock the house up, throwing out all the members of the Order."

Kreacher's eyes grew in pride, "has the pesky Order founds out about master's noble heritage, Kreacher will defend master's home to his last breath, yes sir no nasty wizards will be allowed master…"

It was clear the elf would continue ranting in such a way so Harry decided to interrupt him, "can you also bring me my staff? There are some things I need to do."

**************WOTG**************

Kreacher soon returned with his staff and Harry began to attach its various additions. His knife was attached to form a spear whilst he placed his wand inside its compartment.

Right time to fuck shit up! Harry thought to himself.

He headed downstairs, attracting glances from people in the corridors as they looked at the weapon in his hand. Luke he knew would probably be heading into lunch around now and so the Great Hall would be the best place to catch him.

Entering into the room Harry saw that his friend was sitting next to the Slytherins, spotting Harry he started to rise hurrying up once he saw that Harry was armed. The fact that he was had not escaped the notice of every other student in the room and already Harry could hear the whispers and rumours spreading down the various house tables.

"What's up?" Luke asked, having reached him.

"We're fucked," Harry said, "that's what up! Just learnt that the Order is dedicated to our destruction and as I speak they are on their way here at the moment."

"How?" Luke asked.

"Remember Neville overheard the Norn naming me," Harry explained, "his family is one of the old ones that have opposed us."

Luke swore violently, "I told you coming to this place was a stupid idea. Let's get out of here!"

Everyone in the room was watching the two of them confer in silence, wondering what the hell they could be talking about. Even some of the teachers were looking down from their seats on the high table in interest.

"You'll never make it out!"

Harry and Luke turned and saw Luna standing there, having got up from her place on the Ravenclaw table.

"Many of the Order are outside in the Entrance Hall," she said, "whilst others are apparating into the ground as we speak."

Mutters started round the room as Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked at the two of them in confusion. Harry tore his attention away from the three of them and started to think.

"The back door c'mon!" he said dragging Luke towards one of the doors that lead out of the back of the hall.

A rush of air and Luke's hand pulling Harry to the ground prevented him being caught by the rope net that flew over his head. Spinning round Harry looked back and he saw several members of the Order, whom he knew only by sight, entering the Great Hall, Dumbledore at their head.

"I'm sorry, Harry," the aged Headmaster said, "but I cannot let you leave here. As soon as Neville told me I knew I had to act."

One of the Order members pushed through, "hurry up Dumbledore, you know the true purpose of the Order now, we must prevent the spread of this contagion."

Dumbledore looked like he had aged a decade, "very well, Dearborn, you know better than I what must be done."

The man's face took a gleeful expression and he whipped his wand back.

"Avada Kederva!"

The green bolt of death burst from his room and streaked down the aisle between the tables towards Harry from his place in front of the head table. Several people screamed but all Harry couldn't move his very body seemed to be frozen due to the shock of this betrayal. They were actually aiming to kill. Not even the Death Eaters received such treatment.

Clank.

The curse smashed into metal as Luke stepped into its way with a shield, formed from one he had kept collapsible somewhere. A second net, probably from one of the less trigger happy Order members, woke Harry from his stunned state and a fireball quickly incinerated it.

Getting to his feet, Harry raised his staff and soon the two sides stood looking at each other for a moment. The rest of the students backed against the hall walls, some having to be dragged by their friends as they stood shocked at what was happening in front of their eyes.

The one called Dearborn stood forward, "Harry ne Potter, you are hereby charged under the Inquisition Act of 1056 and have been found guilty by the Order of the Phoenix of the crimes of heresy, false worship and being of tainted blood. You are sentenced to death along with any who choose to support you!"

Mutters were now spreading, especially among the Slytherins as they worked out what was happening. Some amongst them would have been of the older families and so knew what the Order of the Phoenix had been designed for and now knew they had resorted to their original purpose. Of course they didn't know that Harry was a demigod more likely they would be suspecting that the Order was being a roundup of old religion worshippers.

Harry was unable to maintain a laugh, "tainted blood," he mocked, "sounds awfully like Voldemort, wouldn't you say professor?"

Dumbledore stayed silent but various members of the Order moved in preparation for an attack. Soon Dearborn decided that enough was enough, and rained down a volley of cutting and blasting curses upon the two of them. As Harry raised a shield and Luke ducked behind his, Harry saw more Order members emerging from the door they had been planning to escape from, making escape that way impossible.

"We need to escape through the main door," Harry shouted to Luke, trying to get himself heard above the racket.

"We need to go big then!" Luke laughed.

Harry looked for a moment wondering how the hell he could find this situation funny before realising that was Luke's way of countering the fear that he was feeling. He nodded.

"Big then," he said, "cover me!"

Luke nodded and moved in such a way that his shield now covered the both of them. Harry crouched down and began to focus on his power, drawing on all his experience to form a fireball the size of one of Hagrid's huge pumpkins.

When it was ready he shouted at Luke to duck and then stood and threw it as hard as he could at the group standing in front of the door. Most of them were able to shield or dive to the side, a couple of them couldn't raise a shield strong enough and were engulfed in flames, their pitiful screams filling the room as their body superheated.

That was only stage 1 of Harry's plan though because as soon as he released the fireball, he and Luke started sprinting towards the back door, doing amazing acrobatics to avoid, shield and duck out of the way of the various spells that were being sent their way by the members of the Order stationed at that door.

Soon the other Order members started to add their firepower to the fight and one of their cutting curses came awfully close to Harry's head.

Or rather extremely close to illusion Harry's head, as the real Harry and the real Luke crept down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables invisible and unseen. Unseen that was until, Dumbledore motioned towards them to Dearborn and he turned his attention to them.

Harry cursed Dumbledore and his mage sight, of course he would be able to see through Harry's illusions. They weren't yet powerful enough to be able to trick someone of Dumbledore's magical power nor hold up whenever anyone suspected what they were seeing wasn't real.

Therefore as soon as Dearborn had his attention drawn to it by Dumbledore the illusion quickly shattered, when Harry and Luke were only half way down the hall. Realising they were noticed the two of them just ran whilst under a constant rain of spells.

Some hit; Harry's cheek currently sported a deep gash from where a cutting curse had skimmed his skin whilst his thigh had been opened by a slicing hex. Luke wasn't fairing much better as he had been hit in the elbow with a blasting hex, which had mashed up all the bones and forced him to drop the shield he was carrying.

They battled their way to the wall on the end of the Hall, now they just needed to make the short dash along the wall to the door but to do so would be almost impossible with the Order members standing where they were.

They paused for a moment too long and both were hit with spells from the Order. Luke took a cutting curse in the midrift, causing him to double up trying to keep his stomach in his body, whilst Harry was hit by a disarming curse from a more sympathetic member of the Order. His staff flew out of his hand in the direction of the caster whilst Harry was thrown back against the hall, his head banged against the hard stone.

The sympathy of the Order member cost him his life.

The staff flew at him, impaling him through the throat with the blade. It then tore itself from where it had lodged and span back to Harry's hand, ridding him of the dizziness as soon as it connected. A hush had fallen over the hall as everyone took in the scene in front of them.

Harry and Luke were breathing, which they were glad about. Apart from their wounds which should heal soon with their super-fast demigod power, they were fine, it was the other side that was in a worse state. Despite the fact that Harry and Luke had avoided using some of their more lethal powers, there was no need to turn everyone against them, they would struggle to put up any serious resistance now.

Of the eight that entered with Dumbledore, four were dead, two were unconscious and the remaining two were severely magically exhausted because of all the high power spells they had been throwing at the pair of them. Only Dumbledore was in a state to resist them but he seemed to be in a moral dilemma and would use only stunning and disarming hexes, spells they would be easily able to defend against.

Dumbledore raised his wand to start casting spells but all of a sudden toppled sideways stunned. Everyone stared in shock as the Hogwart's Potion Master, tucked his wand back into his sleeve.

Snape looked at Harry, "because of any debt owed to your father and the love I held for your mother!"

With that he swept off back to his chair on the main dais. For Harry and Luke the exit was now clear but they would have to move soon because the Order members who had been blocking the back door were now making their move.

Tugging Luke, Harry sprinted to the door avoiding the few curses and spells that came his direction and ran out of the Hall. Out into the courtyard they ran and across the bridge in the direction of the lake and the Forbidden Forest.

"Luke" Harry shouted to the other demigod.

"Yeh?" he shouted back.

"You got your slippers?"

Luke shook his head, "no they are in my dorm!"

Harry took a deep breath and shouted.

"Accio Firebolt! Accio Luke's conversers!"

A couple of moments later both items came flying out of windows or the door into the castle and came shooting towards the two demigods. Harry took the opportunity to glance back to see where their pursuers were. Fortunately as elderly wizards, in the most part, they lacked the stamina to keep up with the two demigods and were falling further behind but Harry could see that they too were summoning brooms.

Fitting on their various flying instruments, Harry and Luke rose into the air, although Harry was forced to dissemble his staff and strap it to his back before he mounted his broom. Shooting off into the air, Harry glanced behind him to where the first of the Order wizards were mounting their own brooms and rising into the air. Fortunately many of the Order had not flown for years, were not as good fliers as Harry and their brooms were massively inferior to Harry's Firebolt.

Aiming his broom in the direction of the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest Harry shot off with Luke following close behind. Harry wanted to get as far away from the castle as possible, Dumbledore was of an age that made flying hard and so it was unlikely that he would be able to come after the pair of them if they got far away enough.

Luke's warning was all that prevent a curse from connecting with his unprotected back as the pair of them sped away over the Lake. They were nearing the far bank when a series of pops drew their attention. Harry cursed, of course he had forgotten the far side of the lake was outside the wards which meant that the Order could just apparate there and wait for the two of them to appear.

Sure enough there stood five Order members and even from the distance Harry could see the shiny silvery beard of Albus Dumbledore. Harry heard a noise from behind and turned back to look at Luke who was shouting at him.

"The Forest c'mon," Luke shouted, "we're surrounded it's the only way!"

Harry looked for any other escape but saw that Luke was right. Their pause had allowed the wizards on brooms to catch up and there was no way through the wizards on the lakeside. The Forbidden Forest was the only way, though as Harry was to go there especially with the warning for the water spirit, Meera, regarding the way he and his kind would be perceived by those who lived in the Forest.

Harry nodded to Luke and turned his broom sharply, turning off in the direction of the Forest. He saw Luke and the Order members doing the same out of the corner of his eyes whilst to his other side he could see Dumbledore and his companions hurrying round to try and cut them off before they reached the Forest. But Harry and Luke would get there first.

Touching down both of the demigods ran into the forest, Harry pausing only to shrink his Firebolt so he could put it into his pocket before he followed Luke into the gloom. As they hurried deeper and deeper into the Forest they could hear the Order behind them debating whether or not to follow them in. Some of them wanted to go back for Hagrid whilst others were raring to damn the consequences and follow them in anyways.

"We need to watch out!" Harry called ahead to Luke, "apparently we aren't very popular in these areas!"

Luke grimaced but kept on regardless. After around ten minutes running, they were deep enough into the Forest that they decided it was time to take a breather, there was no sign of any pursuit behind them although Harry knew it was only a matter of time and they were in hostile territory.

"So where we heading?" Luke asking, doubling over slightly winded.

Harry looked around, trying to get an idea of direction through the gloom of the Forest canopy. He caught a sight of the hills that he knew where to the castle's north side and worked out his direction from there.

"This way!" he said, motioning in the direction of those hills. "That's where we going!"

The hills were a good couple of miles away and there was a danger that they would not make them by nightfall, which was something they needed to do. Nobody, demigod or otherwise, wanted to spend a night in the Forbidden Forest if they could get away with it. The trees being as close together as they were prevented the use of either Harry's broom or Luke's shoes and so they were forced to make their way through on their feet instead.

After around an hours walk a sudden notice from the path ahead of them sent them scurrying against the base of trees out of sight. A clip clopping noise came down the path.

"A horse!" Luke whispered under his breath.

Harry shook his head, "a centaur, unfortunately!"

Centaurs were bad news, Hellenic centaurs would have been ok but not Celtic ones. As Meera had told him, they remembered how the Romans had brought fire to the Druids' Groves and had hacked down their forests. They loathed demigods that came from the same stock and so would try to kill Luke, not that Harry would fare much better for to them the Norse were still pagans and unbelievers. If the Norse worshipped the Old Religion, then the centaurs and others were true to the Ancient Religion, the religion of Britain before the Roman invasion. Harry just hoped they wouldn't run into any of the stray druid sects that were rumoured to be in existence.

The centaur meanwhile had come to a halt not far from where they were crouching against the tree, seeming to be waiting for something. What it was waiting for was answered a moment later when another set of hoofs sounded down the path.

"What news, Bane?" one of the centaurs asked the other.

Harry groaned, nothing seemed to be going well today. He remembered Bane from his first excursion into the Forest and remembered that the centaur in question had wanted to kill him then, before he even knew about Harry.

"This sector of the Forest seems clear," the deep voice of Bane answered. "How does the rest fare?"

"Even as we talk, our best trackers are tracking the two taint-bearers from where they entered the Forest," the other replied, "they should catch them soon."

"Good!" Bane said gruffly, "to know that we had such taint so near to our young, even worse to know that we had him our grasp not just once but twice and get we failed to do our duty. The stars must frown upon us!"

"Let us hope they do not do so this night," the other replied as a parting word.

For two minutes after the sound of the set of hoofs disappeared into the distance, Harry and Luke waited for Bane to move on but he seemed intent on just waiting there. Luke caught Harry's attention and raised his eyebrows, nodding towards the path. Harry agreed they couldn't afford to wait any longer, not with centaurs coming up on them following their tracks.

Luke silently motioned for Harry to go and attack from the left whilst he himself came from the right. There was one moment where Harry stepped on a twig and was certain that the sentinel centaur would have heard him but he seemed to fortunate. Once in position he waited for Luke's signal before bursting out onto the path.

Bane was startled by his appearance, but he reacted quickly showing why he was one of the leaders of the centaur herd as his bow was up in an instant with an arrow fitted on the string. Once loosened it winged it way towards Harry who only just managed to avoid it by diving back of the path and into a ditch on the side. There were rumours that centaur arrows were specially enchanted so as to go through wizard shields but Harry didn't want to risk his live on what was rumour and what was not.

However the instant that Bane was unarmed was all that Luke need as he leapt out of where he was hiding, wielding his sword and his shield. He rammed hard against the centaur's flank causing Bane to be off-balance before slashing at his unprotected legs with his sword, opening a deep cut. Bane seemed to regain his balance for a moment but was unable to stop Luke's second swing opening his back leg and he fell to the ground, almost crushing Luke beneath him.

He was by no means out as the knife thrust that narrowly missed Luke's torso showed but Bane knew he was going to die and so threw himself into a frenzy; kicking, biting and failing out with all his limbs trying to connect with his attacker. Luke got a glancing blow from one of his hoofs but managed to avoid the rest and Harry moved in to support. Between the two of them they returned the centaur's frenzy with one of their own, opening a barrage of sword slashes, knife thrusts and spells onto the centaur's resistant skin before eventually Luke's sword pierced Bane's throat, opening his jugular. The resulting spurts of blood left both of them covered in and their clothes saturated.

They stood over the body of their foe for a moment, panting as blood dripped from their assorted weaponry. Sounds from the direction they had come reminded them of the fact they were being pursued and they started off again in the direction of the hills.

Harry was aiming the direction of the creek that Meera told him was her domain, at the moment they need any allies they could get and the water spirit owed him a debt which she could now repay. A series of angered shouts showed that their pursuers were close and had found the body of Bane.

Bursting from out of the foliage and trees, Harry saw the river a hundred metres in front of him and threw all his remaining energy into a sprint, running as fast as he could. A set of pounding hoofs from behind caused Harry to look back and he saw a group of around ten centaurs bursting out of the trees into this stretch of open ground, open ground that favoured them.

Reaching the bank Harry threw himself into the water, wading in until he was waist deep in the stream. A splash from beside him showed that Luke had followed him.

"This wasn't quite how I was planning to go!" his fellow demigod remarked with a half-smile. "Not at all!"

Harry ignored him and thought desperately. He had never considered how to get Meera's help, she could be down in the Lake and would never be able to get to them in time. A set of cracks intensified the conflict as Order members apparated onto the scene, led by Dumbledore and even Arthur Weasley.

"Meera, we need help!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Percy Jackson.**

**AN: Sorry it took so long to get this out but this is the third rewrite of this chapter as I was kind of stuck about how I was going to do it.**

* * *

Chapter 13

They were surrounded, stuck between the centaurs and the Order on each bank. Both Harry and Luke were waist deep with no chance of escape from their current position. Dumbledore walked forward from his place in the Order ranks.

"Harry, my boy," he said eyes sorrowful, "please surrender yourself, I will ensure that you are well cared for, somewhere where you can't hurt anyone or yourself."

Harry let out a harsh bark of laughter, "of course, Headmaster, I'm going to believe that just after having a fucking killing curse thrown at me by people who are supposed to be my friends!"

Dumbledore started to reply but Harry wasn't listening he was concentrating on the water that was swirling around his body. It seemed to be getting deeper and deeper, already it had risen from his waist to his belly button. Was this a trick of the Order or a plan of Meera's?

"Dumbledore!"

The shout came across from the centaur side of the river where another group of centaurs came spurring out of the trees. They were led by the one that Harry remembered as being Magorian, who Harry vaguely remembered Hagrid as saying was the head stallion of the herd. He came much closer to the stream than any of the centaur scouts had and looked at the scene, his eyes flicking between the two demigods stranded in the river and the group of wizards on the other bank.

"We centaurs lay claim to the lives of these two!" he said in a strong voice looking fiercely at the two of them.

There was disturbed mutterings among the Order, some of them not trusting the centaurs with such a vital task others not wanting Harry and Luke to die rather be confined as Dumbledore had suggested.

Suddenly as the Order members were debating what they should do in response to the centaur's demand, founts of water shot up in jets blasting them back. Water ran up bodies and started to fill lungs, leaving men and centaur alike drowning where they stood. Shields had no effect as the water forced its way through to its victims.

A pillar of swirling water rose out of the surface of the stream, moving as if it were some sort of tornado. Where the centre was a whirlpool started to form, a whirlpool which slowly began to suck both Harry and Luke into it.

Luke tried his hardest to fight it but Harry shouted at him to stop, to let the water take him. He was sure this was the work of Meera now and she owed him her life and so would not do anything to hurt them, he hoped. He allowed the water to suck him down, down into the depths of the swirling blackness of water.

The water began to surround him, engulfing him in its swirling currents. Forgetting where he was Harry desperately gasped for a breath and ended up spluttering as the ice cold water filled his lungs. A rock, raised by the motion of the water, came flying at him borne on a spurt of water and Harry knew no more.

*********WOTG*********

Harry awoke, thrown up on the bank of a river. Coughing he looked around him and judging from the position of the hills, he reckoned he was a mile or so upstream from where he and Luke had been attacked.

Luke!

Harry got up and started to look around him for his friend. There was absolutely no trace of him, Harry turned round and started to peer into the tree line, praying that he had not been caught by either the centaurs or the Order.

"He's not here!"

Harry whipped round at the sound of another's voice and saw Meera sitting on a rock on the edge of the stream, dipping a stick in and out of the water. He walked over to her, confused.

"What do you mean he's not here?" Harry asked.

"Precisely that," Meera looked at Harry sadly, "Luke is somewhere else, somewhere from where he can make his way home."

"Why?" Harry asked, his voice cracking.

"Because the Fates have decreed it be thus," Meera said, "He had tasks to do in some other place, tasks that need to be done alone, and he is not the only one. You have yours as well."

"What tasks?" Harry asked, "I don't have any tasks to do!"

"None that you know of," the water spirit said, "I do not know your fate, only what the Fates have decided to tell me."

"What have they told you?" Harry demanded.

"There is a town, the place where your ancestors first arrived in these lands," Meera explained, "it lies at the end of the stream we are currently sitting next to, it is where they said your fate decreed you would go!"

"My fate does not rule me!" Harry said scornfully.

Meera shook her head, "no, you rule your fate. Which is why you will go to this town!"

With that she got down from her little rock and placed her hand into the pocket of the dress she was wearing. Taking something out she handed it to Harry. It was a necklace, made of some sort of weed that felt soft to touch yet looked very, very strong and attached to it was a seahorse. The kelpie.

"As I am sure you remember," Meera said with a smile, "the kelpie is a shape-shifter. I have had our enchanters enchant this necklace to give you some of that power. Contained in this necklace is a form that you will be able to take as well as it help increase your powers of illusion."

Harry took the necklace and fastened it around his neck, "what form will it allow me to take?"

Meera smiled, "if I remember your father favoured the salmon and so this will allow you to take that form. Seeing as you are going to the sea town, it might help to get there."

"I'm not going….." Harry began but Meera put her finger to his lips.

"You will, you will!" was all she said before disappearing back into the stream.

Harry sat there looking after her for a couple of moments as he considered what to do. Then with a sigh he realised that he might as well go and visit this town where ever it was, there wasn't like there was anywhere else he could except Grimmauld Place and Harry knew that he would have to lie low for a little bit before returning there as the Order would have it under siege.

Wading into the river Harry activated the necklace, giving a little squawk as he felt his legs disappear from under him to be replaced by fins. If Harry hadn't spent some time as a fish/human hybrid during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament he knew he would have had to spent a lot longer adjusting to his new shape. As it was it took some time and even after a good twenty miles of heading downstream Harry was still having some problems with steering.

After around another hours swim Harry found himself tasting salt in his mouth and he realised he must be approaching the sea. Pulling himself to the bank, Harry returned his normal form and got out of the river, drying himself with a wave of his wand.

After a couple of minutes trekking through the undergrowth Harry found a path which lead in the direction of the small village which Harry could see just round the corner. A sign as he approached told him that he was now entering the village of Potterswood. It seemed like your average small country village with a village shop and a small parish church surrounded by a couple of small thatched roof cottages.

A squawk drew Harry's attention to his left where, sitting on the fence, was a small barn owl which a letter clutched in its claws. Seeing nobody else around to whom this letter could be addressed Harry went over and untied the parchment before unfolding it.

_Dear Harry,_

_You must keep moving wherever you are, certain members of the Order are baying for your blood. Someone, probably a spy of Voldemort, has been spreading rumours about you to turn the Order against you._

_Do NOT return to Grimmauld Place, the Order have it staked out, waiting for you to return. Dumbledore has sent me back among the werewolves so there is nothing I can do but know I am praying for your safety._

_Yours,_

_Moony_

Well at least someone in the Order was on his side, Harry thought as he burnt the parchment, even if he didn't believe the rumours of Harry's parentage.

What would he do now. Harry looked around for a couple of moments before hearing some sounds of shouts coming from one of the buildings in the small village square. The sign outside denoted it as a pub. Harry paused at the moment, considering for a moment whether or not to enter before deciding hang it and walking in.

Inside the smoke filled room were various benches and chairs as a large proportion of the village folk sat drinking in various stalls, laughing at each other's jokes and generally being merry. Walking over to the bar Harry pulled himself into one of the barstools that was empty and sat with his back to the wall looking around the room.

"A drink, young sir?" a voice came from his left.

Harry turned and saw the barman leaning against the bar next to him. Fingering the end of his wand, Harry thought for a moment.

"A pint of bitter, please" Harry order.

The barman raised his eyebrows but got him it anyway. Harry took a sip of the frothy beer before leaning back contended against the wooden wall. He preferred bitter to lager, it just tasted so much better.

"So you travelling?" the barman asked, "I haven't seen your face around here before!"

Harry nodded, "of sorts," effectively ending the conversation.

An order from the other side of the bar drew the barman away, leaving Harry with the opportunity to survey the room. Most of the village folk were sitting in the stalls with their friends, drinking their pints and laughing riotously anytime someone said something remotely funny.

Harry sat drinking for at least half an hour, allowing the pleasant buzz of alcohol to settle over him and relax his senses. The Order would never find him here, mainly because even he didn't know where here was, and besides they would never think to look in a pub.

Soon the bar began to empty slowly as the town's inhabitants began to disperse back to their own homes, Harry too got up and said goodnight to the barman.

"Goodnight yourself, Mr Potter!" the barman replied cheerfully.

Harry stopped for a moment before turning around slowly, his hand slipping down to where the knife was concealed within his shirt, should he be forced to kill this man he would rather do it with a knife so it looked like a muggle attack rather than a magical one.

"How do you know my name?" Harry asked quietly.

The barman snorted, raising his eyebrows "this is Potterswood, and you Potters hardly change your looks generation to generation. I mean the only difference I can see between you and your grandfather is the colour of your eyes!"

"My grandfather?" Harry asked, "I have often heard that I look like my father, never my grandfather!"

The barman smiled, "well if I remember a young James Potter I would say he and his father looked alike, I just compared you to your grandfather because he was the last Potter to live up at the big house."

"The big house?" Harry asked, never knowing that his family had a house in this area though of course it made sense.

The barman looked up in surprise, "yes, Potter Manor just up the road on the hill. You mean you have never heard of it, Mr Potter, I would have thought your father would have often told you of your family home."

Harry looked at the barman, the man was clearly not a wizard nor did he know of magic Harry suspected but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to be careful with what he did and what he said.

"My parents are dead, sir!" he said, "they were murdered when I was young, I can't remember if they ever told me about the manor."

"Murdered," the barman said horrified before becoming angry, "by the same people who murdered your grandparents, these Death Eaters!"

Harry nodded, remembering that his grandparents had been killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters not two years before his own parents had been killed on that Halloween. The barman bowed his head in sorrow.

"Tis a real pity," he said sorrowfully, "I remember young James, a real troublemaker he was always sneaking down to my bar to get a drink when his parents weren't looking. A great kid."

Harry nodded again, not knowing what to say having had no experience or memories of his father whatsoever. It felt strange that this man who barely knew his father, who didn't know he was a wizard, still knew him better than Harry himself did.

Then it hit Harry, was he wrong in thinking of James Potter as his father? He might not be biologically but it was weird to think of him as anything but that, yet at the same time did his real father know of his existence, or rather did he know that Harry was his son? Sure Harry had sacrificed to him but so did most people in the old days and they weren't the sons of gods. Maybe his father just thought he was one of those and not his son. He liked to think his dad was there watching over him but why if Loki was his father did he look so much like James Potter. It was all so confusing!

"…are you alright, kid?" the barman asked, bringing Harry back to reality.

"Yes, thank you very much," Harry smiled at the kindly barman. "You have been very kind, sir, I'm sure my father would have appreciated it!"

"It's nothing, young sir," the barman chuckled, "truth be told, life hasn't really been the same here in Potterswood without Potters up at the hall, those new people aren't quite the same."

"New people?" Harry asked, "my family sold the house?"

He was disappointed he had thought that perhaps he might be able to use this Potter Manor as a temporary base whilst he found out what the hell Meera had meant when she said that it was his fate to be here.

The barman shook his head, "nah, they let it out to a group of people, a religious order I think. Odd dressed people they are too, all robes and sticks."

Harry's heart went cold, "the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Aye that's it," the barman nodded, "the Order of the Phoenix, led by an old chap with a long white beard. What's the matter, boy?"

Harry had turned white, the Order were here! In his house!

"The Order and I don't see quite eye to eye over several matters," Harry said considering his options carefully, "indeed I would say I get on better with the Death Eaters."

The barman's face turned red and Harry thought he would explode.

"Them," he hissed, "more of them, here in this town. I have half a mind to go up there and deal with them, religious freaks."

It took Harry some time to cool the other man down, apparently the Potter family was much respected in the town and the idea of a group of people who would murder a member of the Potter family living in Potter Manor seemed to disgust the old barman. After a time he went into the back room and told Harry to sit down with another pint, this one for free.

Harry sat at the bar thinking over his beer whilst the other man was out back. Even if he couldn't use Potter Manor as a base, Harry felt a little bit obliged to at the very least go and pay the house a visit, see the place where his family had been spent the last millennia living. Harry started to wonder what live would have been like had Voldemort never have heard the Prophecy, what would have happened if he had chosen to go after Neville rather than Harry, what would have happened if he had not killed Harry's parents. How would he have grown up, like a spoiled brat like Malfoy living in Potter Manor with his parents spoiling him? Would he have had any siblings, perhaps a sister or even a little brother? Also would he have ever found out about his heritage?

A sound came from the back room and a moment later the barman came back into the room with a box in his hand which he laid down on the counter next to Harry, before taking the stool next to him.

"I know you are going to go to the house," the barman said quietly, "every Potter has always had a taste for danger and so I have a couple of things for you which you might find useful."

He started to fish around in his pocket and brought out a set of keys which he pressed into Harry's hands.

"These are a set of keys," he said, "the large one is for a trapdoor in the forest to the east of the house which leads down into the cellars, your grandfather was a very paranoid man and had a series of escape plans as well as plans to recapture the house should it ever be taken. This is one of them! The other thing I have for you is something for you to keep hidden."

The barman took the box down from the bar and gingerly lifted up the wooden lid to reveal a box full of straw. However there resting in the straw were a set of old fashioned pistols, two hundred years old or a style of that period if Harry were to guess for they had wooden handles and were around a good eight inches long. Indeed they were something that wouldn't look out of place on a pirate.

"These belonged to a relative of mine who was in the army ages ago," the barman said taking one of them out, "six shots, with a couple of extra features."

He pressed a small button on the side and immediately a small blade, a bayonet, sprang from the end of the muzzle with such a speed that Harry guessed that it was spring loaded. The barman then showed Harry how to load, fire and look after the magnificent weapons. At first Harry had been slightly dismissive in his mind about the use of the weapons against wizards but then realised that he could use them against other things, such as centaurs, and besides if he ever got disarmed then a wizard would never expect him to pull a pistol on them.

"That you kindly, this is a very valuable gift," Harry thanked the old man.

"It's nothing," the old man said gruffly, "just glad to have a Potter back among us, look after yourself young man."

Harry nodded and tucking the pistols into his belt and adjusting his cloak so that he could be sure that they could not be seen, he stepped off into the night.

******WOTG*******

Harry headed out of the village and walked up the road he saw as signposted as leading to Potter Manor. On the way he practised turning himself invisible as he had in the Great Hall, at first he didn't have much success, he was able to turn himself invisible but as soon as his concentration slipped, perhaps when he thought he heard a member of the Order, he began visible again. However after around half an hours practise he was able to hold it to such a level were instead of being visible he merely began slightly hazy. Still he knew he needed a lot more practice if he was ever to have any chance of beating Dumbledore.

The thoughts of the Great Hall made Harry think of Luke, he wondered how the other demigod was getting on. Meera had said that just as it was Harry's fate to go to Potterswood, there was something that Luke needed to do for his destiny and Harry couldn't help but wonder what it was. If he was to guess then he would say there was a quest that Luke needed to do back at Camp Half-Blood. He hoped that his friend would have better luck than he had had on his last mission for the Oracle, the mission which still haunted him.

After around half a mile's walk Harry came to a great big set of gates, not too different from the main gates at Hogwarts from whence Harry would guess they got their inspiration. Approaching them carefully Harry looked around to see if there were any Order members on guard anywhere but as he suspected there was nobody in sight. There was no reason for there to be an attack on the Manor, there would be little to gain for the Death Eaters to attack the Manor and as far as the Order knew Harry had absolutely no knowledge whatsoever of the house's existence. Once Harry was sure the coast was clear he marched up to gates and mentally ordered them to open, he was pretty sure they would open if he did so, he had heard enough stories from Malfoy to know that such enchantments were standard.

At last minute something hit Harry, what if the gates wouldn't accept him because he wasn't a Potter, after all if Loki was his father than surely James Potter could not have been. Would they attack him through some inbuilt security measures or would they alert whoever was up at the house.

Fortunately for Harry they did neither, swinging wide open instead. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he saw them open, resolving not to do something so stupid until he had thought it through properly. Once inside Harry started to head towards the forest which made up most of the eastern barrier of the grounds, apparently the forest had once been kept at bay by the high walls that surrounded the grounds but the charms on the walls had decayed to such a level where the wood could encroach onto the grounds.

It was once Harry got part way round, crossing a bridge over a small stream that lead down to a lake that Harry saw the house for the first time. It was not as impressive as Hogwarts certainly, partly because it was no castle but also because it was a lot more comely than the castle. It was perched upon a small hill with a steep grassy slope that ran down to the lake that Harry could see beside the forest to which he was heading. The driveway ran down from the main door down to the gates and Harry could see the flicker of light coming from the windows. It made his heart ache as he imagined growing up here, with his parents, with his imaginary siblings.

Tearing his attention from the gleaming home that should have been his, Harry headed down the path into the woods, keeping his ear open for anything that might take exception to him, such as centaurs. He founded the entry to the tunnel relatively easily, the trapdoor was only covered with enough ivy to disguise it should someone stumble upon it.

Lowering himself down into the pitch blackness, Harry waited for a couple of moments for his eyes to adjust themselves to the darkness before dimly lighting the tip of his wand. He had decided not to go for the full powered version to prevent detection and so as to allow his eyes to customise themselves to the dark something that would be vital should he need to make a quick getaway. After around ten minutes' walk which included a relatively steep climb as the tunnel followed the slope of the hill up to the house.

Eventually Harry came to a solid oak board that blocked his way. The barman had been unable to tell him what to do from the entrance of the tunnel onwards or indeed give him any information regarding the layout of the house, having never been in it himself. Harry started to feel around the edges of the board looking for some sort of handle or button that would allow him to open the door but found absolutely nothing.

He sat down in the tunnel stumped for a couple of minutes before deciding that perhaps brute force was the only way the door would ever open. Pressing his fingers in the gap between the door and the stone Harry tried to prise it open.

He partially succeeded, forcing it a couple of inches open before some sort of spring caused the heavy oak to slam back hard. On his fingers. Harry had to prevent himself from screaming in pain, he wrenched his unfortunate digits out from where they were lodged examining them. They were bloodied and crushed, not too badly for with his demigod powers he would recover soon but either way he would be in quite a bit of pain until they did.

Deciding that his fingers had recovered sufficiently Harry began to feel around the centre of the door looking for a disguised notch or lever. However as soon as his blood covered fingers touched the wood of the door it swung open to reveal the room beyond.

Harry jumped down from the hole in the wall and landed with a soft thud on the stone floor of what looked like wine cellar. The door through which he had walked had been disguised as a huge wine vat on its side, the end of which opened up to produce the entrance to the tunnel.

Making his way through the maze of cellars, corridors and storage rooms Harry eventually found some stairs that led up to the main part of the house. As he started to ascend the stairs Harry paused as he considered where he would go, indeed what was he there for? Sure at the start he had just wanted to see the house although the barman had given him the keys to the trapdoor Harry hadn't originally planned to enter the house so what was he doing here now?

Fate. That bitch, Harry thought savagely.

What annoyed him most was that all this did was prove Meera right when she said that his fate would rule him, Fate had led him here inside the house and like an obedient little puppy he had followed. For a moment he considered turning back just to spite them but realised it would be of limited effect and besides he was in the mood for a fight now and so heaven help any Order member he was unfortunate enough to run into this night.

Now with less regard for secrecy Harry bounded boldly up the stairs and opened the door at the top which led onto a rather plainly decorated corridor. Heading down one end and up a set of steps Harry paused at the door, pressing his ear against the wood to see if there was anyone inside the room beyond. Hearing nothing beyond Harry pressed lightly and the door swung open. Harry paused in amazement.

It was a dining room, the passage he had just come through must have been to the kitchens and the cellars. The room was exquisitely decorated with handsome wallpaper and beautifully ornate portraits. Stepping in Harry looked around him, barely able to turn his back on a single bit of the outstanding room. For Harry, someone who had grown up in Privet Drive and then had the relatively dull interior of Grimmauld Place, this was something else and the thought that this should be his pained him.

Pain that soon vanished to be replaced by fury. Why hadn't Dumbledore or someone told him, surely before Harry had been revealed as a demigod it should have crossed his mind, why had he then chosen to not tell Harry? Any remaining feeling of loyalty towards the old man disappeared, he might have been forced to denounce Harry when who Harry was was revealed but he was not forced to deny Harry his rightful heritage. It was a betray too far.

Harry wandered aimlessly through the corridors, marvelling at all the beauty and splendour that was all around him. Eventually he found himself in front of a massive oak door covered in splendidly carved lions, griffins and stags. Reaching for the lion's head handle, Harry slowly turned it and found himself in a study.

Like the rest of the house it was magnificent but there was something special about this room to Harry. It was not large, probably only around ten metres by ten metres but Harry loved it immediately. Large coloured stain-glass windows dominated one wall of the room, showing a huge Griffin clutching a shield showing a horned helm above a boat was flanked by a stag and a lion on each side. In front of the windows was a huge mahogany desk with a green felt top and draws down either side. The rest of the walls were lined with bookcases, filled with old manuscripts and books with faded spines. On one of the side walls was a huge marble fireplace decorated with stags. On top of it however was a huge portrait whose frame was covered in gold leaf with the Potter crest on the top centre. A small plaque underneath bore the name of Antony Potter.

Antony Potter, the founding member of the Order of the Phoenix.

A book case full of smaller books lay to the side of the fireplace and Harry walked over to it and started to examine the spines. They were journals, hundreds of them. Some of them were empty which led Harry to believe they were not the originals just linked to them so when a word was written in the original it would appear in these. Along the spines of the journals were the names of the Head of the Potter family who had wrote them and the years which it covered.

Suddenly Harry saw one and pulled it out of the rest. He turned to the cover page and started to read.

_The Journal of James Charlus Potter, _

_19__th__ Earl Potter_

_1980-1982_

_Regarding Lily Potter and the Birth of Harry James Potter_

There was slightly odd with the handwriting around Harry's surname as if the writer had hesitated slightly when writing it.

* * *

**AN: There is my longest chapter for some time, sorry about the way I got rid of Luke I just needed him to return to Camp Half-Blood for his bits during Percy Jackson and I needed Harry on his own.**

**Just found out this is now the most reviewed, followed and favourite story in the M section of this crossover so thanks to everyone, I have enjoyed writing as much as I hope you have enjoyed reading. Now the bigger target...**

**T Horn**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Ok, this is quite a sort chapter but it is ages since I last updated this chapter and I needed to get something out or I would be stuck where I am. That said tis quite an important chapter for the obvious reasons from the end of the last chapter. Either way apologies and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 15

Harry's heart fluttered as he took in the hesitation, wondering whether or not he would be able to read on or whether he ought to bottle it and never know the truth. Almost before he had fully decided he found his hands were already turning over the pages, coming to stop at one seemingly at random.

* * *

_September 17__th__ 1979_

_I have been feeling strange of late, there are moments were I fear I am not myself but feel imprisoned within my own body as I were something else, something that wanted free. This something whatever it Is powerful, that much I can feel through the strengths of its struggles indeed were it to be any stronger I fear it might rip my body apart. I have not Lily yet, nor do I plan to at least not for the foreseeable future for there is enough hanging over us without her having to wonder about the sanity of her husband._

* * *

Harry reread the entry several times to ensure that there was nothing he had missed, no hidden clue as to what was going on. Having found absolutely nothing extra Harry began to mediate on what he had read.

Possession. That was Harry's immediate thought, but then almost immediately he ruled it out, for the thing was clearly trying to escape so why would it try and possess his father in the first place. Imprisonment then, whatever it was was being imprisoned within James, locked away so that it could not escape.

* * *

_October 6__th__ 1979_

_I have been studying the books in the Potter library, even borrowing a couple off Dumbledore. My early fears of some sort of possession have, I think, been ruled out and indeed sometimes there is something comforting about it inside me. The attacks are becoming more prevalent of late, tending to occur whenever I am with Lily or falling back into my old habits of devising childish pranks with Sirius and Peter to keep up morale._

* * *

Suspicions began to form in Harry's mind as he read. Could it be? Did he want it to be and most importantly how would this affect him? Flicking forward another dozen or so pages Harry began to read again.

* * *

_October 22__nd__ 1979_

_Recently I have begun to develop several abilities that I fear are linked to my condition. Generating fire is not something my family has had the ability to do and yet I found myself creating a fireball in a raid against Death Eaters last night. The being seems to be mad I fear for it takes no notice of what happens when it is in control of my body, lashing out at anything within range. I now understand for the first time what it is like to be Moony, and I feel awful now knowing what he goes through every full moon._

* * *

Loki, James Potter was being possessed by Loki. Or rather Loki was being imprisoned within the body of James Potter. That was the immediate assumption that Harry made, the fireballs and the like that could be the only explanation. Also if Harry remembered his Norse mythology right then Loki was not very popular with the other gods, so locking him up in a mortal might have been some sort of punishment for a particularly wicked deed or something.

* * *

_November 31__st__ 1979_

_Something has happened that I am not sure the consequences of. Lily is pregnant. She is of course ecstatic, even though our child will be born in the middle of the war, but she doesn't know what I know. I have been away recently a lot and we have only shared our bed once in that time, a night where the Other took almost total control for the first time. He was too strong and I was tired, there was nothing that could be done. Yet that leaves worries about the child; he is born of my body, my seed but not my spirit, is he my son?_

* * *

By this point Harry was having trouble breathing. So was he both James' son and Loki's, did he have three parents. What's more from what his mortal father had written earlier it sounded as if Loki had no idea what he was doing when he was controlling James' body so that would mean that he didn't know of Harry's existence. The note and the horn were therefore just made as a gift from a benevolent god to an ordinary halfblood rather than from a father to a son.

Tears beginning to form in his eyes as a link he had with one of his father's disappeared Harry lost grip of the hand holding the pages, resulting in him losing the page he was on. Regaining control of the book Harry found himself on a date that he knew well.

* * *

_June 31__st__ 1980_

_Lily gave birth in the late hours of this morning to a son. The pair of them look so adorable together that many of my feelings of doubt and jealousy disappeared immediately for both Lily and the child will treat me as the boy's father, whether I am or not. As soon as Lily fell asleep I cast every single paternity test that I knew upon the child – he's mine, or at least mostly mine for the charm flickers at unknown for an instant before my name appears. It is enough for me, Harry James Potter is my son and I will kill any man that dares say otherwise._

* * *

Tears that had previously been forming in his eyes started to fall onto the pages, disappearing before they could cause the pages to smudge, as Harry read his mortal father's declaration of love and ownership. Son of Loki or not he was also James Potter's son and he would honour both fathers, mortal or otherwise.

Closing the book and slipping it back onto the shelf Harry took a couple of moments to collect himself before walking back out the door. There was something of a darkness in him at the moment, an inner beast much as James had written about, a beast that demanded the blood of his enemies in payment for their crimes against him and his family. He was Harry Potter, he was Harry Lokison and his enemies better beware.

Harry left the study with a fierce stride, heading in a direction he knew not. Whereas before he had been looking up studying the architecture and the furniture with delight, now Harry took no notice of it so preoccupied was he with his thoughts.

He found himself on a balcony in a huge room with a great set of stairs going down to the floor below. Just as Harry walked out onto the balcony he saw something joining him from another corridor not ten metres away. The figure was clearly wizard and merely awake, not that that mattered for there was only one type of wizard currently occupying Potter Manor. Order members.

The man managed a quick scream of alarm before Harry was in him. One hand held the man's in place preventing him for drawing his wand whilst Harry viciously head-butted the other man, causing his nose to crack and blood to stream from the unfortunate man's nose. Before he could defend himself Harry seized his ankle and tipped him over the balcony, a sickening crunch marking his landing.

Soon Harry was downstairs walking past the crumpled body of the Order member and re-entering the dining room in which he had first found himself upon emerging from upon leaving the tunnel. Shouts from behind him told him that the man's shout had awakened the rest of the Order, not that he cared much for he was in the mood for carnage. Shouts of encouragement soon turned to shouts of horror and anger as they reached the bottom of the stairs and found the body of their friend.

The portraits were slowly waving up at the noise and when they saw Harry standing there in the dining room, the obvious Potter features decorating his face there were shouts of joy, greetings and introduction though Harry ignored all of these, focusing on what was about to come through the door.

Moments later it happened, the door was blown off its hinges and Order members flooded through, wands at the ready. But Harry was ready for them. Hovering knifes from the dining room draws flew at them before they could defend themselves. Most of them got off with shielding them or weaker blows to their limbs but some were not so lucky. One was hit in the throat, the steak knife cutting it clean open causing blood to spray all over her comrades. The portraits' greetings had turned to shouts of horror, anger and more than a couple of them fainted though others were brandishing wands at the Order members, shouting furious curses and screaming their anger at this betrayal.

One of them, a portrait of an older woman holding a fearsome looking umbrella, was striking down with it upon the Order member standing below her portrait, or rather at least she was trying to and unfortunately not really succeeding.

"Murdering a Potter in Potter Manor," she shrieked, "betrayal, they have betrayed us!"

The noise brought other portraits running into the frames, watching the epic duel that was unfolding before them. Harry was fighting without mercy, he would give no quarter. He was a Potter, he was ice giant, he was a demigod and he would kill them all.

There were now only five of them left, the rest lay scattered on the dining room floor though some of them were not lucky enough to be in one piece. Their leader was firing spells off at a rapid rate but all of these Harry was able to shield against or avoid. Diving across the table Harry came up in front of one of the ones of the fringes, yanking the smaller figure into the path of some of the incoming spells and using her as a human shield. The other members didn't even get a chance to cease their casting as a piercing curse hit in the centre of the forehead and Harry pushed her towards the nearest Order member, following the body with a reducto.

The unfortunate Order member became entangled in the body of Harry's human shield and was unable to lift her wand to block Harry's curse, the reducto taking his head clean off. With a wave of his wand the table cloth from the table was levitated and began to wrap itself around two of the Order members and before they could remove it Harry set it ablaze with one of his fireballs. This latest trick caused applause and claps of admiration from the portraits surrounding the room as they viewed the wreckage their descendant was causing.

The last one charged at Harry, drawing a knife he had in his belt as his wand had been entangled in the table cloth as well. Harry was easily able to avoid the clumsy thrust and seizing the man's head in both his hands, he quickly snapped the man's neck.

Shouts of congratulations, praise and admiration came raining down from the portraits but Harry mostly ignored them, leaving them to fuel his ego, before turning back to the entrance to the passageway that would led him out of here when he saw a portrait he knew he could not ignore.

"The fireball?" Anthony Potter, the founder of the Order of the Phoenix, said quietly, "between that and the behaviour of the Order I would say you're a demigod."

The portraits along the wall started to protest most fervently, but Anthony silenced them just by raising his hand. If Harry hadn't been so nervous he would have been impressed at the control this Lord Potter had over his extended family.

"Of a sort," Harry admitted, "a god was imprisoned within my father, James Potter, during his life and it seems like I have two fathers, James and the god. Unfortunately the Order wouldn't listen to me and just tried to kill me."

A voice came from behind Harry, "that thing possessing me was a god?"

James Potter in all his glory stood crowded in a frame, looking very, very sick. Harry approached the frame very, very nervous. Would his father disown him? Tell him he was his son?

"Dad?" Harry asked, barely able to keep his voice under control.

"My son," he said pride spread all over his face, "oh I can't wait to hear of your exploits at school, how has Paddy been to you, been a good dad cos I wasn't here? I must say I appreciate your work here, very nice!"

"I practised on Death Eaters!" Harry smiled wryly.

That got some applause out from certain sections of the room, the more recent portraits who had been around when Voldemort was beginning his work. Harry pitied them, stuck here away from the world with nobody to tell them the most recent news.

"Father, Sirius is dead," Harry said as calmly as possible, refusing to allow his emotions to overwhelm him, "I never lived him, Dumbledore sent me to the Dursleys."

Shock, horror and then outright anger were the expression that crossed his father's face. A scream of denial burst from his lips and the nearest portrait patted him gently on the back.

"How?" his father croaked.

"Department of Mysteries," Harry said, preventing memories of that night from reaching him, "Bellatrix Lestrange sent him through the arch. He had been thrown into Azkaban after you died for betraying you and I was left at the Dursley's doorstep."

"How are these Dursleys," Anthony Potter said, dislike crossing his face, "they are not a pureblood family I recognise the name of?"

"They're muggles," James spat, "Lily's sister and her family, they loath everything that is to do with magic, what Dumbledore was thinking I don't know."

Harry nodded, "they hated me, kept me in the cupboard under the stairs, made me do all the chores and I only found out about magic when my Hogwarts letter came and even then they tried to take it from me."

The room had turned deadly silent, and the only thing that could be heard was the gradual drip, drip of blood running down one of the columns which had a dead body impaled onto it by a kitchen knife.

"I shall be having words with Dumbledore when he next comes," Anthony Potter said softly, "but there is another matter, we must decide whether or not you are a Potter!"

James started to protest from his place on the way but Harry turned round and silently begged for him to be quiet. Harry was the one who had to convince this Lord Potter, not his father.

Harry nodded, "all paternity tests say James Potter was my father, and my blood was Potter enough to open the door in the secret entrance to the house." Harry said half defiantly, he was a Potter and he didn't need these old relics to tell him so.

Finally Lord Potter nodded, "so you are, not only a Potter but also Lord Potter. I shall relay my disgust to any Order member who comes from now on. But you must be off, Dumbledore could have placed wards around the house and could be here soon."

Harry nodded and saying goodbye to everyone else, his father in particular disappeared off down the passage way that led to the tunnel which he had used to gain entry into the house in the first place.

**********WOTG*************

"Where is he?" a voice roared from behind Harry.

Harry turned, half reaching for his wand as he expected the caller to be looking for him. It had been two days since his excursion into Potter Manor and there had been no signs of any increase in Order activity. He had debated whether or not Dumbledore knew of what had happened there but decided that he probably didn't.

Harry was sitting back in the pub at Potterswood, he had become a bit of a regular here over the last couple of days. The barman had made no reference to the night that Harry had first arrived and his trip afterwards, except for a polite "so how was your evening last night?"

The man who had entered looked around the room. His eyes swept over Harry with no sign of recognition so Harry thought he was relatively sure that he was not the person this newcomer was looking for.

"Where are you, my dear brother?" the giant roared again.

Ok he was certainly not looking for Harry because as far as he was aware he didn't have any siblings. Suddenly Harry almost wanted to hit himself, he had been thinking in Potter mode again and not as the child of a god. Though from what he could remember of Loki's other children through his reading of mythology this was not one of them, after all he did not look like a serpent, a wolf or a half dead girl.

"Calm, friend," the barman said, "perhaps if you tell us who you are looking for we might be able to help?"

The man, who was an absolute giant, glared at the barman for a couple of seconds before settling to a stool not two seats away from where Harry was sitting. This gave the young wizard a perfect opportunity with which to examine the man discreetly. He was huge, six and half foot if Harry was to guess though perhaps he was nearer seven, and he was by no means lanky but looked like a brick wall of muscle. His shaggy blond hair was trimmed into a beard whilst that on his head hung down long like pictures Harry had seen of hairstyles that were popular centuries ago.

"I am looking for my brother," the blond said, taking a seat, "he is tall, slim and has long black hair with bright green eyes. I heard his presence was felt here and has been here for the last couple of days."

The barman looked at him perplexed, "presence felt?" he asked confused.

"Never mind," the stranger waved it off, "have you seen anyone of that description!"

"What was his name?" the barman asked, ignoring the other man's anger.

"Loki!" came the reply.

Suddenly the liquid which was in Harry's mouth was no longer there as it burst from his mouth. Before he could move he found himself pinned up against the wall, the stranger's muscle bound arm constricting his neck.

"What do you know?" the stranger's bearded face was in Harry's own, "who are you?"

Harry choked, "what's your name?"

The man tightened his grip, "I ask the questions here," he said angrily, "my name is Thor, and you will tell me your own!"

Overhead Harry could hear the thunder claps as a storm brewed. It had been a nice warm sunny evening when Harry had entered the pub, not twenty minutes ago, and that was enough for Harry to be sure who this was.

"Thor, God of Thunder," Harry forced out through the grip around his neck, "my name is Harry Potter."

There was no way he was going to tell his father's mortal enemy what his real name was.

* * *

**AN: There it is an explanation for Harry's birth and an introduction to the Norse Pantheon. Note I will be using the characters from the various films for Thor, Loki and the rest because it is easier that way. **

**Hope to have the next chapter up a lot sooner than it took to get this one up.**

**T Horn**


	16. Sequel up

**AN: New sequel now up under the name of War of the Gods: Blood Strengthening. It is under the Harry Potter/Avengers crossover because most of this one will be focused around Harry and his father.**

**T Horn**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: New sequel now up under the name of War of the Gods: Blood Strengthening. It is under the Harry Potter/Avengers crossover because most of this one will be focused around Harry and his father.**

**T Horn**


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